


The Training of Tony Stark

by MercurialMagpie



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bisexuality, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8132464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialMagpie/pseuds/MercurialMagpie
Summary: Tony thought his new life, with his new superpowered roommates, was going pretty well. Until secrets started to be revealed...





	1. Bombshells

Tony had originally made the offer while high on surviving not only a battle with aliens and gods, but personally escorting a nuclear warhead through an interdimensional portal. When his head had cleared the next day, he'd had some serious second thoughts about opening his home to a ragtag group of superpowered (and possibly insane) individuals, but now that they'd mostly settled in, he was strongly considering making all his decisions in a seriously altered state. It was like the best possible version of all that college crap he'd missed out on by being too young and precocious.  
Clint, for instance, turned out to be an excellent cook, knowledgeable about nearly every major cuisine Tony could name, but usually just experimenting with whatever they had on hand, and making it delicious every time. Steve had a good grasp of the basics of cooking, the cheap-and-filling stuff from the Depression and the War, and Clint was teaching him the fancier and more complicated types. He would usually intersperse those instructions with lessons on history or geography or current events. Sometimes, if Bruce had wandered up from the labs, he would chip in a hand or a factoid. It was friendly and cheery and tasty, and Steve always looked so proud when the rest of them praised a new recipe.  
Tony knew Bruce, and his focus on the science over the teammates, almost as well as he knew that part of himself. Tony knew how easy it was to convince yourself that they didn't actually want you there, and so whenever he left his lab, heading to the communal kitchen or living room, he made a point to stick his head into Bruce's lab, see what he was up to, ask him along. Pretty soon, all he had to do was open the door and raise his eyebrows, and Bruce would grin and start packing up his experiment or whatever. Tony didn't look too closely at the fact that that grin warmed up a place in his heart he thought he'd put into cold storage back when the other high schoolers hadn't wanted a skinny pre-teen following them around. And because of it, he found he was also leaving his own lab more, wanting to lure out Bruce (being lured himself) to the boisterous camaraderie of the common areas. He _very carefully_ did not think about the moment, every time, when Steve would catch sight of them (him? Could it possibly be him?) and break out his own beaming grin.  
Nat was.... quieter. She tended to sit, close but out of the way, and watch everyone else. Half a dozen times now, Tony had been in the middle of arguing some point with Bruce or Clint, or describing a scene from a movie for Thor and Steve, and had looked over to see Nat just... observing. Not quite cataloging, not even taking mental notes, just... seeing them all, noticing how they were, alone and in combination. Of course, then she would drop the perfect single-line zinger, and the target, usually Clint, would react in fake shock and horror, and Nat would get the most wicked smirk.... Tony was coming up with all sorts of plans for pranks and tricks they could do together, and he was very pleased to think of her as an awesome sister. (But never anything beyond that. Much as he liked a dangerous redhead, this one might be just a little _too_ dangerous for him. Besides, now there was a certain blond... No. Bad idea all around, Stark, don't even go there.)  
Thor, when he was there, was good at lightening the mood (pun totally intended, it wasn't like Tony was made of stone), getting the rest of the team talking and laughing and explaining some bit of pop culture to him and Steve. He also encouraged movie nights and video game competitions and karaoke. Oh, God, the karaoke. Tony was glad a hundred times over that he'd set JARVIS up with a karaoke program so they didn't have to go out to a bar and expose the poor innocent public to the way-more-enthusiastic-than-skilled Avengers. Clint and Thor were all volume and no pitch, Nat made up her own words, Bruce wouldn't even have gone, and Steve, for all he tried, didn't actually know the words to anything. If they'd gone to a karaoke bar more than the once, Tony would have drunk the place dry that night, and bankrupted Stark Industries the next day trying to keep the madness out of the media (a losing battle, what with the existence of YouTube and all). But here at the Tower they could have a couple beers, a LOT of pizzas, and whatever lyrics they wanted to come up with. They could also pause between songs to explain things to Thor and Steve if they needed to, and sometimes Tony found himself choosing the most obscure tracks he knew, just so he could show off his knowledge and watch Steve's face light up with understanding.  
Tony knew, in that “I don't want to think about it” way that he knew too many things, that he was maybe a little hung up on Captain America. Well, he knew it was a toss-up whether Bruce or Steve was his best friend (he didn't have much of a frame of reference, and honestly, he wasn't going to choose if he didn't have to), and there was definitely some Freudian stuff around the superhero his father had helped create, and then had spent his whole childhood searching for.... But then there was the way Steve's arms and back rippled when he was working the heavy bag in the gym, and the way Captain America posed for selfies with the looky-loos after each villain fight, and all of his thousand different kinds of smiles. Tony thought he might have started a mental list of all of Steve's smiles, and if he was honest with himself there might actually be a couple hundred entries, and oh, God, did he have it bad for Steve Rogers. Fortunately, he also had decades of experience bottling his emotions, not letting them show, and so he stomped them down, hard and far, and just tried to be part of the team.  
Well, and that took up plenty of his attention, so it was ok. Up until this whole “Avengers” thing, Tony had always said he wasn't a team player. Even now, he had no interest in going along with the board of SI or anything crazy like that, but he was slowly learning that it was possible for a loose cannon like himself to work with a team, maybe even long term, without someone poisoning the coffee. In fact, he found he was doing better work with other minds to collaborate with, and (though he hated to admit it) people to drag him away from the lab sometimes, to do other things with his brain. And if a little too often, the other things his brain did involved, say, Steve and naked Jello wrestling, well, it was only in his head, and nothing showed on the outside. He totally had a handle on all this, he was making all this work, it was a delicate balance, but still good.  
Which was why, when the bomb hit, it was so fucking devastating.  
*A*A*  
Bruce was standing at the stove as the rest of them meandered into the kitchen, lured by the smell of spices, warm and complex. He grinned. “Tonight, we have chicken tikka masala, with jasmine rice. Nat, would you get the rice cooker?” They'd gotten it from a restaurant supply place, but it was the only one big enough to provision the Avengers on curry night. Everyone else set about getting plates, forks, beers, and napkins, and setting them out, then they sat down and dug in.  
There was the usual round of yummy noises and compliments to the chef, then Steve finished his beer in one long gulp and set the empty bottle down hard enough to chip the glass. Five pairs of eyes focused on him, curious, and he took a deep breath, then very obviously tried to be casual. “So, I learned a new term this week, and I think it applies to me. Bisexual.” He snagged Bruce's still-unopened beer, popped the cap off with his thumb, and started gulping it down.  
There was a long silent moment, then Tony heard himself say, “Welcome to the club!” He felt a smile (oh, god, please don't let it be the manic grin, please, not the manic grin...) stretch across his face.  
Nat grinned too. “Ooh, we should have buttons. Or shirts? I could rock a 'Bi and Proud' shirt...”  
Thor was frowning mightily. “Friend Steve, I am happy to support you, but I do not know this term either. Please explain?”  
Steve squirmed a bit. “It's someone who, you know... goes with, um, sleeps with, both men and women.”  
Thor nodded, but he also frowned even more deeply. “And here on Midgard there must be a special name for this? And an announcement? On Asgard it is the way of things... One may take any lover, without regard for gender or even species. Indeed, I have shared pleasure with male and female, Asgardian and dwarf...” He paused and chuckled. “And, just the once, a centaur...” He gave a happy sigh.  
Clint was blatantly leaning away from Thor by now. “OK, that's way more than I needed to know about your love life, wow. So, Bruce, this curry's really good, did you add more cumin than usual?”  
Bruce nodded. “Good catch, I was experimenting-”  
Tony waved his arms around. “No, wait, hold on. I mean, not that I'm pressuring or anything, but apparently tonight is sharing time, do either of you boys have anything you'd like to share with the class?”  
Bruce shrugged in his usual unperturbed way. “I'm a one, maybe one and a half on the Kinsey scale, I didn't feel there was anything to share. I'd be happy to wear an ally shirt if you'd like, though. Incidentally, Thor, on Midgard, most people assume that a man only likes women, and a woman only likes men, and that people want to pair up and have children. That's called heteronormativity.” He flashed a grin at Steve. “And now you've learned another new term.”  
Tony gave him a quick hairy eyeball, but it was mostly for form's sake. He then turned his stare on Clint, who squirmed like a schoolboy, before bursting out. “It's not like it meant anything, right? I mean, all teenage guys fool around with their friends behind the midway, right? I like women!” He shoved way too much rice in his mouth and started choking.  
Nat thumped him on the back, and shot Tony a mild glare. He gave her a little eyebrow shrug and plowed on. “Alright, we'll call that two ally shirts. No, really, this is excellent. Avengers Against Biphobia? Avengers Assemble for Queer Rights? Help me out, Nat, you're good at this stuff.”  
She rolled her eyes and deliberately turned away from him. “Clint's right, Bruce. I think the extra cumin really balances it well. Maybe next time marinade it longer?”  
This time Tony let the subject be changed. He found himself at a surprising loss for words anyway. Now that the rush of adrenalin from hearing that word, from _Steve's_ mouth, had faded a bit, he could really settle into a good quiet freakout. Because if Steve was bi, there was the slightest sliver of a possibility that... No, there was no way. But he could still hope, right? Right. So, as Tony saw it, there were two good options here. (The bad option, of course, was that Steve was not just not interested, but actively repelled by Tony's promiscuous past. He was pretty sure that wouldn't happen, but he wasn't sure enough to be willing to risk it.) Good option one was Steve being willing to fool around with him, maybe even have a full-on one-night stand. And that could be enough for Tony. It would be enough. If that's all he could get, it was miles better than nothing, and at least he'd have the memory, right? (There was no way it would be enough. He'd become the creepy stalker ex. He was already in too deep.) (Not that Steve was really the one-night stand type, anyway. After all, he was still carrying a torch for Aunt Peggy, and they'd been together decades ago.)  
Good option two, the one Tony hardly dared even hope for, was that Steve might actually be interested in a real, actual relationship with him, Tony, Stark the Fuckup. Of course, Tony being Tony, he knew that he'd end up screwing it up somewhere down the line, but maybe, just maybe, Steve might give him half a chance first. And Steve did seem like the kind of guy who would try to be friends with his exes, so once it didn't work out they could probably go back to what they had now, right? Then again, if he really spectacularly fucked it up with Steve, that would probably fuck his relationships with the rest of the team, too, and all of that was far too valuable to risk just to fulfill his stupid adolescent crush. Suppress and deny, that was the Stark way, and he could practice it with the best of them. Don't upset the applecart, that was best.  
Tony realized that his plate was empty, and that the others were standing, clearing the table, and moving toward the living room couches. He hurriedly pushed himself up and joined them. “So, whose turn is it to choose the movies? I know it was Thor last week, because we saw Star Wars. Again.”  
Steve flopped down in the middle of the big couch. “I think Clint said something about Robin Hood? That sounds pretty good to me...”  
Bruce curled up in an armchair, cradling a tea mug in both hands. “The problem is, which ones? There have been so many...”  
Clint snorted. “Nah, there's only one good answer to this. JARVIS, Disney, and then Mel Brooks.” Nat cheered and pulled him down onto the smaller couch, and Thor laid claim to the other armchair, leaving Tony nowhere but next to Steve on the big couch. He could do this. He could be the cool buddy. He would not screw everything up. He focused on settling into his seat without encroaching on Steve's personal space as JARVIS dimmed the lights, and soon they were all singing along to “oo-da-lally, oo-da-lally, golly what a day.”  
Of course, Steve was always adorable watching Disney movies, and pretty soon Tony was watching him way more than a movie he'd seen a hundred times already. The way the light moved over his face, the way his expression changed with every emotion... Tony told himself he could be happy just like this forever. The team, all hanging out together, Steve close but not too close, not risky close, and if Tony was out to the world, well, he could start picking up men as well as women when he was out on the town. He would just have to be very careful to never go for tall, built blonds. He could do that. The first minute he realized he was interested in Pepper, he'd taken leggy redheads off the tasting menu, and he'd stuck to that pretty well to this day. (The only exception being Nat, back when she was posing as his PA, and no one could blame him for that. I mean, seriously. Nat. He got a free pass on that one.)  
Tony jolted in his seat when he heard Patrick Stewart. King Richard already? Wow, did he need to get his head on straight... Pun once again fully intended. Not tonight, this was a team night, but maybe in a few days he'd go down to the Village, go to a club, pick up some pretty twink and have his way with him. That'd clear his head, right? Robin fumbling with Marion's chastity belt did nothing to help his frame of mind, but at least it meant that the movie was over, and everyone was collecting themselves and wandering down the hall to their bedrooms. Thor and Clint were debating cheerfully over some detail, but Tony couldn't care less. He barely managed a civilized goodnight before he fled upstairs to his own suite.  
But when he got to the top of the stairs, instead of turning left toward his bedroom, as he intended, he turned right, into the living room. His feet took him directly to the bar, where he snagged the nearest decanter and glass, and poured a couple fingers of amber liquid. He tossed it back, centering himself on the burn in the back of his throat, then refilled the tumbler and wandered over toward the window. He pressed his overheated forehead to the cool glass, and stared out unseeing at the city. This was no good. There was no way he'd be able to work with Steve like this. He would just end up embarrassing himself. He needed a vacation, maybe. A week or two on some tropical island, seducing golden-tanned cabana boys, yeah, that'd clear his head...  
“Tony?” He jumped and spun, the scotch sloshing onto his fingers, and saw Steve at the other end of the room. “Sorry, did I startle you?”  
Tony scrubbed his face with his free hand. “No. I mean, yeah, but it's fine. Was there something you needed?”  
Steve took a couple steps toward him. “No, actually. I thought there might be something up with you. You were awfully quiet all evening. You ok?”  
Tony tried to laugh, but he was pretty sure it came out kinda wrong. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind. Genius and all, remember?”  
Steve chuckled and moved a little closer. Tony was starting to feel like a wild animal Steve was trying to catch, the impression not much helped by the realization that his heart was pounding a thousand miles an hour. Steve caught his eye. “Is this about my announcement at dinner? Were you, um... hoping to come out first? Or planning to never come out? Or-”  
“No.” Tony had to cut him off. “No, nothing like that, it was probably overdue for me to come out, I really do want to tell the whole world, and all that. I just...” He tried to come up with an excuse, but Steve was standing _right there_ , in snug jeans and a shirt that had to be two or three sizes too small, and Tony could see every cut of ab, every curve of pec... He wrenched his eyes back to Steve's face. “I was just gonna have a drink and hit the hay, no need to worry about me, Captain Grandma.” He waved an arm as if that would explain everything.  
Steve moved again, and, God, now he was almost close enough to touch. “Really? Because you seem pretty agitated to me. I kinda think...” And now he was so close Tony could feel his body heat, bare millimeters of air between them, and Tony was sure that Steve could hear his heartbeat, it was pounding so loud in his ears. Steve leaned down, juuuuust a little. “I _hope_ , you want to kiss me. Because I want to kiss y-”  
Tony lunged, his mouth coming up to crash against Steve's, the glass dropping forgotten from his hand as his arms looped around Steve's neck. Steve grunted, in surprise or with Tony's weight, then wrapped his arms around Tony's waist and kissed him back. Like, wow, kissed him like Tony was his whole world, and Tony let himself get lost in it, in smooth lips and strong tongues and hungry moans. When oxygen finally became an issue, he pulled away just far enough to rest his forehead on Steve's shoulder and pant for breath.  
Steve chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest to Tony's. “Well, I guess that answers that. Wow.”  
Tony made a noise of agreement that was about half purr. “Yeah, seriously wow.” He took a deep breath. He could do this, had to do this, before they got too entangled. He raised his head so he could look Steve in the eye, and wow, that was going to make everything way harder, because Steve's pupils were blown out, his lips swollen and red, and he was just gorgeous. No, he had to- “Steve, god, you have no idea how much I want- But I'm screwed up, I screw up everyone around me, you shouldn't-”  
“Tony.” It was firm, very Captainy, and Tony could hear echoes of every order Steve had ever given. It made his knees weak; he sagged, just a little, against the reassuring bulk of Steve's torso. “Tony...” And this one was softer, almost fond. “You want this, yes?” Tony found he had no words, so he just nodded enthusiastically. Steve grinned. “So do I. Oh, I want...” This time he leaned down, reclaiming Tony's lips, sliding his tongue into Tony's mouth, and Tony fell into it again.  
Steve's hands shifted. It took Tony a moment to notice, but those hands were definitely drifting downward. They settled on his ass, and Tony threw back his head and moaned aloud. His hips jerked forward, and he realized how incredibly, painfully hard he was. Then, oh god then, he realized Steve was just as hard, the bulge threatening to split his jeans. He whimpered and rubbed their erections together, the fabric between them little more than a nuisance. Steve groaned into his mouth.  
Tony forced himself to break away again. “Steve. I want to.... Oooh, I promise I want to be a gentleman, and take you out to a restaurant where they'll make us wear ties, but right now I need... Oh, I need you.... Please... Bed. Bedroom. Can we-”  
“God yes.” Steve kissed his ear, then down his throat, while his hands shifted to Tony's thighs. He lifted and pulled, and Tony automatically lifted his calves and hooked his ankles together around Steve's back. Steve turned and strode toward Tony's bedroom. Well, it was more of a stagger, really, as the motion caused their cocks to rub against each other in the most amazing, distracting way.  
Tony meant to bite lightly at the side of Steve's neck, but it quickly turned almost primal. He growled into Steve's ear. “So hot. Seriously, you, doing this, might just be the hottest thing ever. But don't hold me to that, the night is yo-oh.” Steve had stopped moving, and Tony realized that Steve was pulling at his shirt, and he was pulling at Steve's shirt, and they were just going to get tangled... He dropped his feet and took a step back, taking Steve's shirt with him. Steve got Tony's shirt over his head, but when Tony caught a glimpse of the arc reactor's light, he had a moment of shock, of horror at his strange cyborg nature. He took another couple of steps back, quick and light, pressing both shirts to it like he could hide it.  
“Hey now.” Steve grabbed his wrist, but held it lightly, just keeping him in place. “Nothing to be ashamed of here.” Tony dropped his eyes, and Steve stepped up close, putting a finger under his chin to lift it up. He gave a soft smile (number 12, I Really Care). “First of all, I knew it was there, you've had it as long as I've known you. Second,” he slid his hand around to cup Tony's cheek. “I think it's beautiful. Not just for itself, not just because it's keeping you alive, but because it came from your mind, and I think you might have the most beautiful mind I've ever known. I-” He broke off, giving Tony a kiss as gentle as the previous ones had been wild. “I don't ever want you to hide it from me.”  
Seriously. Was everything this man did just preposterously hot? Tony started randomly kissing the flesh in front of him, pecs and biceps and abs, the shirts forgotten in favor of undoing Steve's fly and shoving his pants past his hips. His cock sprang free, and Tony's hand gravitated to it, around it... Well, as much as he could. Steve gasped and staggered backward, only avoiding getting his feet tangled in his pants because his calves hit the bed first. Tony went with him, tumbling the two of them down onto the bed, still kissing everywhere he could reach.  
He moved his mouth downward, suddenly ravenous for the taste of Steve's cock. He slithered off the bed, kneeling between Steve's feet, one hand still wrapped around the base of the shaft, and slid the head of it through his lips and into his mouth. Steve sat up sharply, with a surprised yelp, but Tony just looked up at him through his lashes, and slid his mouth a little further down. Steve grinned and dropped back onto his elbows, his eyes locked on Tony's face, as Tony closed his eyes and focused (tried to focus. So many thoughts...) on what he was doing.  
Tony had been with more than a few guys in his time, and this was familiar, easy. (Not familiar. Glorious and new, Captain America's fantastic cock already dripping with pre-cum, tangy and salty.) (Not easy, either, it was both longer and bigger around than most he'd seen, and his lips and jaw were stretching for all they were worth.) Generally things ended with outercourse, bjs and handies and frottage, and that was good enough for a hook-up. The few times there had been penetration, Tony had very definitely been the top. He could bullshit about internalized homophobia, or bluster about the tabloids getting a hold of that sort of information, but if he was honest it probably had to do with control. (He was well aware that he was a control freak, thank you.) Never before had he had the feeling he had now, the need he was harboring to be completely filled by this magnificent cock.  
Tony pulled away with a slurp, and pushed himself to his feet. He saw a flash of worry, maybe even fear, cross Steve's face, but he unfastened his own jeans, dispensing with them, and Steve licked his lips as his eyes raked over Tony's suddenly-nude form. Tony bounced over to the bedside table and rummaged in the drawer, quickly finding what he was looking for. He went back to kissing Steve, straddling his thighs, the first skin-to-skin contact of their cocks making both of them gasp and thrust forward. Tony pushed at Steve's shoulders, still kissing him, and he obligingly shifted up and back on the bed, until he was half-propped on the pillows.  
Tony dropped the bottle of lube next to Steve's hand, and pulled back a little to gulp air. “I want... oh, God, I want you inside me, but you're huge, you're going to have to prep me a bit first, please, I want you to...” And he dove back into the kiss, trying to ignore how he felt more exposed emotionally than physically at the moment, which was weird, right? He was vaguely aware of Steve fumbling behind his back with the lube, and then Steve broke the kiss so he could peer over Tony's shoulder and down his back.  
A moment later, cold lube hit the crack of Tony's ass, and his breath caught in his throat. Then one of Steve's big, nimble fingers (artist's fingers before he ever held a weapon, remember) slid through the lube, along the crack, and around the edges of the puckered muscle. Tony whimpered with need, and dropped his face down to press against Steve's chest, his eyes falling closed as all of his attention shot to more important things. That single finger slid inside him, and he keened in pleasure. Steve froze, and that would just not do at all. Tony lifted his hips a little, pushing his ass into Steve's hand, and Steve complied by sliding the finger further in, twisting and probing.  
When he pulled the finger most of the way out, Tony felt a moment of disappointment, but then there were _two_ fingers invading him, stretching him so wide... The delightful burn was partially quenched by a glop of cool lube, but then, oh then, there were fingers, plural, delving deep into him, and he was squirming against them, into them, with and around and for them, and he _needed_....  
“Oh, God, yes, fill me, feels so good, please, more, deeper...” Holy crap. Tony knew he could say some dirty things in bed, but this was so much more. He needed so much more... “Please, yes, ok, god, that's good, that's better than good, that's enough...” Steve paused, withdrew a little, and Tony managed to raise his head, and look at his face. He was sure Steve's expression mirrored his, wild with lust and need. He licked suddenly-dry lips. “Enough fingers. I need the real thing. I- ohhhh” Steve drew his fingers out slowly, almost teasingly, as Tony pushed himself upright.  
Tony shifted, hovering his ass over Steve's cock, and reached down with one hand to grasp it and guide it in. He made a pleased noise when he noticed that Steve had thoughtfully lubed it up, too. As the head of Steve's cock pressed against his entrance, he locked eyes with him, then let himself sink down. His eyes widened with the nearly overwhelming combination of pain and pleasure as it seemed like his entire lower half was stretching around a behemoth, but he kept his gaze locked on Steve's; peripherally, he was aware of both of them panting with leashed desire, and he wanted _everything_ , right now....  
His ass cheeks hit Steve's thighs, and he realized he had taken Steve in, right down to the balls. _Now_ , he let his eyes close and his head fall back, trying to adjust to... everything. After a moment, the need to squirm overpowered everything else, and he gave in to it. Steve gasped, and his hands flew up to clasp Tony's hips. Tony snapped his head down to look at Steve. “OK? Are you? Is this?” Wow, he could hardly form words...  
Steve gulped a couple of times, then nodded. “Good. It's good. You're... Oh, God, you feel so damn good... You're so warm, so hot, so tight... Please, will you, can you...” He pulled Tony's hips toward him, then pushed him back a little, and Tony figured it out. He started rocking back and forth on Steve's cock, and they both moaned. Tony moved a little faster, starting to adjust to the almost over-full feeling, starting to really get into it... Steve gasped, and clenched his hands on Tony's hips, his own hips snapping up, and Tony felt hot liquid spurt up into him. Steve dropped back down.  
“Oh. Well, then.” Tony tried not to let his disappointment show. The night didn't have to be completely over yet, right? “I guess we can-”  
Steve's hands flexed, pinning him in place. “No, hold on, just give me a minute...” He panted for breath for a moment, then ran his hands down Tony's thighs, up across his pecs, around the edges of the arc reactor...  
Tony's breath caught, his heart pounding. “Ohhh... yesss...” And then he realized that Steve's cock, which had gone partially soft inside him, was getting hard again. He clenched experimentally, and it sprang to full hardness. “Oh! Oh, my god, really?” He was grinning in sheer delight. “Damn, gotta love that Serum! Mmmm...” He squirmed, exploring the feeling of being forced open, liking it way more than he would have expected. He started to seriously work his hips, fucking himself for real on Steve's cock.  
Now Steve really responded, too, his hips rising and falling with ragged strength, his hands back to gripping Tony's hips like a lifeline, and utterly filthy things falling unheeded from his mouth. Tony found himself driven to new heights of pleasure with every thrust, until they changed angle just so, and Steve's cock hit his prostate- Tony was vaguely aware that he had made a short, sharp noise, which matched the supernova behind his eyes. He tried the move again, and got the same burst of incandescent pleasure.  
He was close, now, right at the knife's edge of orgasm. He managed to meet Steve's eyes for a moment, and saw that he was close too. Then Steve's hand wrapped around his cock and stroked it twice, three times... Tony was pretty sure he bellowed as he came, but he couldn't quite tell through the wash of light and soundless sound that overtook him.  
The next thing he was aware of was the heat of Steve's body all along his torso, and the thud of Steve's heart under his ear. He groaned pleasantly, and shifted slightly, realizing now that they were nearly glued together with his cum. He lifted his head just enough to see Steve's face.  
Steve blinked and grinned sappily at him. (oh, hey, that was a new one! Call it no. 247, Just Got Laid. Score!) “Hey, handsome.” His fingers tangled in Tony's hair, and he succumbed to the desire to make a little grumbly, purry noise and nuzzle his cheek into Steve's shoulder. Steve chuckled. “Well, I guess _you_ enjoyed yourself. Good.”  
Tony sighed happily. “Oh, yeah.” He shifted a little, stacking his fists on Steve's sternum and resting his chin on them. “You apparently enjoyed yourself twice! Which, gotta say, cum from the first time squishing around in there for round two? Way hotter than you'd think. Guess it's been a while for you, though, huh?”  
Steve, whose eyes had been locked on his face, now turned away, blushing a little. “Been forever, technically. I've never- never before-”  
Tony cocked his head. “Never been with a guy?” Steve shifted his shoulders, seeming embarrassed now, and the penny dropped. Tony pulled back a little in surprise. “Never been with _anyone_? You're a virgin?”  
Steve's head snapped around. “Was. Not exactly am anymore, in case you hadn't noticed!”  
Tony was grinning hard enough to hurt his cheeks, and now he started laughing. “Oh, my god, I just deflowered Captain America!” His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes got as wide as they would go. “Oh, my god! That was you without any practice or experience or anything? Hot damn, get you some training, you are going to be a sex god, I don't know whether I want to share you with everyone, or at least the people I want to reward, or just keep you for myself and gloat to people that they will never have sex as good as what I'm getting.” He zoned out for a second, imagining the possibilities, then snapped back to the moment. “Oh, my god, I just took Steve Rogers' virginity!” He bounced to his feet, barely noticing the pains of their stomachs unsticking and Steve's cock sliding free. His afterglow usually left him sleepy, even lethargic, but right now he was overflowing with energy. He did a little victory dance, grinning at Steve.  
Steve was on his side, head propped on one hand, and he was grinning back, but there was something a little off about it. “Well, I'm glad you're pleased with yourself.” (Oh, shit. Number 84, Putting On A Brave Face!)  
Before he could even think about it, Tony was back on the bed, stretching out next to, but not quite touching, Steve. “Hey, I'm pretty pleased with you, too. That was incredible. Seriously. I never would have guessed that it was your first time. And I won't tell people if you don't want me to.” He was suddenly overcome with fear, almost panic, and he turned his face away, talking to the pillow rather than Steve's face. “I mean, we don't have to tell anyone about any of this, if you don't want to. I know people don't brag about me, except to the tabloids.”  
Steve cupped his cheek, turning his face back. “I would be happy to brag about you to whoever. I'm more than willing to tell people. What do _you_ want?”  
Tony licked his lips, buying time. Really, no one had ever asked him like that, like he was allowed to give his own answer instead of what they expected to hear. “I-” Why was it so hard to breathe? The worst he could do was say no, right? It would be ok, c'mon Stark, you can do this... “I want you. I want to date you, I want this-” he gestured to their naked bodies “-all the time, god, I want to take out billboards and tv ads telling the whole damn world that we're together. I want anything you'll give me!” He was gasping and, greatly daring, he pressed his face to Steve's chest, sucking in the scent of sweat and sex. “I know I'm going to fuck it up, and I'm already sorry, you can quote me on that later, but if you'll let me, I want to try in the meantime.”  
Steve wrapped his arms around Tony and drew him close. “Hey, hey, relax, shh, shh, it's ok. I want this too, I want you... I'm not sure I want the billboard, but yeah, I want you, and I doubt you're going to screw it up as bad as you think.” Tony tried to pull away, to protest, but Steve gave him A Look, and he subsided a little. “So, if I stay here tonight, am I going to wake up to Pepper hustling me out the door?”  
Tony huffed out a laugh. “If she does, I'll fire her for being a jealous bitch.” He relaxed and allowed himself the luxury of snuggling in a little. “Honestly, though. Please stay. This... this is really good.” He shifted and realized how sticky he was. “Well, ok, there is one way it could be better. Stay put.” He hopped up and headed into the bathroom. He cleaned himself up as quick as he could, then ran some hot water over a washcloth and brought it back out. Steve shifted to his back and watched, curious but quiet, as Tony wiped down his chest and stomach, then very gently wrapped the cloth around his cock, stroking it up and down just a couple of times. He pushed the cock aside, wiped the balls tenderly, then leaned down and kissed the head.  
Steve slid his fingers through Tony's hair. “Good pet. Sleep now?” Tony was startled at his first two words, and more so at the rush of affection (and relief? Where did that come from?) that flooded him, but he was also suddenly far too tired to think about that or anything else. He tossed the washcloth in the general direction of the hamper, gathered up the blankets, and laid down with his head on Steve's shoulder and one of his thighs draped over both of Steve's. Steve wrapped an arm around Tony's waist, and Tony slid happily into sleep.  
*A*A*  
The first thing Tony was aware of in the morning was his cheek pressed to Steve's chest, and Steve's heartbeat in his ear. Then he shifted his hips, and his body screamed its soreness at him. He sucked in a breath, and Steve chuckled. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”  
Tony lifted his head, grinning at- oh, my god, was Steve Rogers his boyfriend? He felt his grin getting even bigger. “Good morning yourself. I might even say great morning, but that might ruin my rep as a laid-back guy.”  
Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, because when I think of Tony Stark, I think laid back. Wouldn't want to break that illusion.” He leaned up and kissed Tony. “So, Bucky always told me, if they let you stay the night, make breakfast for 'em the next day. You want breakfast?”  
Tony smirked. “So if I get you to move in here, does that mean you'll make me breakfast every day?” His barely-awake brain caught up with his mouth, and his whole body tensed. “Um. I, ah, don't have to have said that. If, ah. I mean, I know we're probably already moving awfully fast for you, we haven't even had a real date, we can take this at your pace-”  
Steve kissed him again, then pulled back, eyes twinkling. “I would love to move in with you, if you actually meant it. I- I would be honored.” His smile softened for a minute, then turned wicked. “But I'm not going to make you breakfast every single morning. Just because we're living together doesn't mean I'm a good little housewife.”  
Tony was flooded with a complicated mix of emotions, and decided on the simplest two to focus on- humor and lechery. He leered. “Aw, really? I was so hoping to see you in nothing but an apron and rubber gloves...” He leaned in to slide his tongue into Steve's mouth, and 'accidentally' rub his thigh on Steve's cock, and the kiss got very heated very quickly.  
Until Steve's hands grabbed Tony's hips, and they flared with pain. Tony flinched, and Steve pulled his hands away, looking worried. “Oh, sorry! Wait, what?” He scooted up on the bed, forcing Tony to shift to sitting up too. The blanket fell away, revealing a hand-shaped bruise on each of Tony's hips. Steve reached out, but drew himself up short of touching. “Oh, wow, did I do that to you? Jeeze, Tony, I'm sorry, I didn't-”  
Tony grinned hugely. “Nah, this is good. Souvenirs!” He poked at them experimentally, then sat up on his knees so he could rotate his thighs. “They're not even that bad.” He flopped onto his back. “Heck, I've gotten worse sparring.” He looked at Steve, who still looked kinda conflicted. “Hey, now. I am in no way upset here. Seriously, Pepper used to give me these scratches all up and down my back....”  
Steve looked outraged. “What, so to reassure me, you bring up your ex? I can't believe you would-” Without warning, he pounced, covering Tony's body with his own and kissing him like they were the only two people in the world. They started to rub up against each other, but then Steve's stomach rumbled, and he pulled back and sat up. “Much as, God, I would _love_ to continue this, I think we really do need breakfast.”  
Tony nodded reluctantly. “If we must.” His eyes started to gleam. “Hmm, you know, I think we'll need eggs and bacon, to fuel more escapades later....” He clambered out of bed, doing his best to ignore both the erections demanding his attention, and dug in the dresser for sweatpants and t-shirts, then tossed one set at Steve and put on the other set. “The shirt might be a bit small, and half the team will probably figure out that you slept up here just by what you're wearing, but if I let you go down there naked, then Thor will think it's ok to walk around naked, and I so do not need that image in my brain.”  
Steve laughed as he climbed out of bed and pulled on the clothes. “Yeah, I'm good with avoiding that. Especially with the crazy photos the _Bugle_ has been getting lately.” He stepped into Tony's personal bubble and Tony automatically turned his face up. Steve grinned (No. 202, Genuinely Happy) and leaned in to kiss him. “I think the team will figure things out pretty quickly as soon as I kiss you at breakfast.”  
Tony grinned back. “Well, you know, if you want to make it even more obvious, we could give each other hickeys right now...” He started nibbling on Steve's neck.  
Steve lifted his chin out of the way. “Mmm, yeah... Wait, no.” He stepped back a little. “You are a very tempting man, Tony Stark, but we both need food, and then I'm pretty sure you have a job to go to.” He turned to the door, but held out his hand. Tony took it, feeling like a teenager, and let himself be led down the stairs to the communal kitchen.  
Tony went immediately to the oversized coffee maker and got it going. Steve stopped at the fridge for the bacon and eggs, then set up shop in front of the stove. He pulled out two frying pans, then glanced shyly at Tony. “You want pancakes too?” Tony nodded, and Steve grabbed a third pan. “Grab me the mix, then?”  
Tony obligingly passed it over. When the coffee started dripping, he bypassed the pot entirely, filling his mug directly from the drip; he took a long gulp, then raised his eyebrows at the amount of food Steve had pulled out. “I get that I might have made you a bit hungry, but do the two of us really need this much food?”  
Steve laughed at him, but in the nicest possible way. “The two of us probably don't, but when is any meal around here just the two of us? The rest of the team is going to show up pretty soon. Probably as soon as they smell bacon. I figured I'd be prepared.”  
Tony laughed back. “Excellent strategizing, Rogers. See, this is why I-” Woah, hey mouth, this is brain, we are so not going there, thank you very much. “I keep you around. Because you plan ahead. But maybe save cooking the bacon for last?” He immediately busied himself with getting out more coffee mugs, and the sugar and cream and whatnot.  
Steve set about mixing this, stirring that, and pouring things into pans. After a long quiet moment, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “So, ah... I'm not sure exactly how to ask this...”  
Tony smirked as he leaned against the counter, hands cradling his coffee. “Don't worry, I'm clean. I get tested every six months. Safety first!”  
Steve whipped around to gawk at him, his face bright red. “I wasn't asking _that_! Besides, I don't get viral or bacterial infections anymore.” He went back to fussing with the eggs. “No, I... I just... How much of, of last night and all of this, is because I'm, you know, _him_?”  
Tony scooted closer, almost touching but not sure he should. “He's part of you, you know. I mean, I get that you still think of yourself as the skinny kid from the projects, witness your shirt collection, but I've seen Erskine's notes. The things that make you Captain America were there already when he found you, the Serum just brought them out. I mean, I'm not complaining that it also brought out muscles for days,” he skimmed his fingers along the closer bicep, “and, you know, all that... stamina, but you're not just some meathead, and you're not an empty suit and a fancy Frisbee. You're smart, maybe smarter than any of us realize, you're a good leader, good with people. I mean, you're genuinely nice, and that never happens. Seriously, I know there are nice people out there, but they get within a mile of me, their inner asshole comes out, no one is nice around me, but you manage it, and I am truly impressed.” His brain jumped tracks, and he had to take a gulp of coffee just to have something to do with his face. “I, um, almost feel like I should be asking if you're with me just because I remind you of my dad. Or because I'm absurdly wealthy. Or...”  
Steve turned them to face each other and settled his hands on Tony's hips, distracting him with the pleasurepain of the bruises. “So, then, we agree. We're together because of who we are outside of the suits. I'm good with that. Go get plates.” He kissed Tony, then started laying bacon in the last pan.  
Tony was moving before he even stopped nodding, getting plates and forks onto the table just as Thor bounded into the room. Moments later, Clint wandered in and headed directly for the pan of bacon; Steve didn't even glance over as he smacked his knuckles, and Clint withdrew to the coffeepot, pouting. Somehow, Nat was already there, pouring cups for her and Bruce. Clint pouted harder, but wisely waited his turn.  
Steve put a platter of pancakes and one of bacon on the table, and everyone sat. Steve served up the eggs, ending with Tony, and ruffled his hair as he straightened up. He dropped the pan in the sink, sat next to Tony, and dug in. Tony gave him what was probably a terribly sappy smile, and Steve smiled back.  
Nat darted a look back and forth between them. “ _Boje moi_! You two are together! When the hell did that happen?”  
Clint squinted at them, then gaped. “Holy shit, they are! Look how smug you both are!” Sure enough, Tony knew he was grinning like the cat that got the canary _and_ the cream, and Steve wasn't much better. Clint pointed at him. “Stop it! Stop making that face! Captain America should not have 'I just had fantastic sex' face!”  
Steve gave him a stern look. “And what exactly is wrong with fantastic sex? Should I be ashamed of being a healthy adult with a sex drive?” He crossed his arms over his chest, but Tony could see the twinkle in his eye. “I thought Americans, in the 21st century, would be more enlightened than that.” Clint attempted to sputter out an explanation or a justification or something, but Steve couldn't keep a straight face, and burst out laughing. “Oh, your _face_! Ha, oh, you totally deserved that!”  
Bruce quietly raised his coffee mug. “Well, I for one say congratulations. You both deserve happiness, and if you're finding it together I couldn't be happier for you.”  
Tony raised his mug and nodded regally. “Thank you. So glad someone is happy for us. Just for that you get to pick next week's movies.”  
Thor pounded on the table. “Excellent! Our leader has a shield-mate, this will be excellent for the team!” He frowned and pointed at them. “You must vow to discuss your troubles with one another, lest they fester within and poison you, and then us.”  
Steve grinned. “Believe me, I plan to try. Tough with this one, though.”  
Tony faked outrage. “Excuse me? I think I was pretty forthcoming last night...”  
Clint snorted. “How much cumming?” He smirked, chuckled, then outright laughed. Pretty soon the whole table was laughing, the tension well broken, and Tony felt a warm glow, close to but not related to, the arc reactor. As everyone settled into grins and chowing down, he cleared his throat. “Though I have been thinking about something. It's the end of September, right? So... National Coming Out Day is in just a couple of weeks. I'm thinking, press conference, big announcement, et cetera, et cetera. I can do it alone if you guys don't want to-”  
Steve nodded. “I'm in.”  
Nat shrugged. “Might as well, it's not like the fanboys can objectify me more, right?”  
Thor raised his mug. “It is well. We will spread the superior way of Asgard to all of Midgard with our example!” He thumped his mug on the table hard enough to make the plates jump. Tony suddenly wondered what exactly he'd gotten himself into.


	2. Discovery

Steve had a natural talent for adjusting to new situations. Secretly, he suspected that was part of why he'd taken to the Serum so easily- he just... adapted, and made the best of the new circumstance. So he thought he was dealing pretty well with preparing to freeze and/or drown to death, and then waking up 70 years in the future. (The future itself was a whole different story. There was a lot more to adjust to there...) When he'd been at the SHIELD barracks, he'd been friendly enough with the others that they probably thought of him as an actual friend (though he hadn't let himself get close to any of them, he wasn't ready for that yet), and when Stark had invited them all to move in to his tower, he'd agreed more from a logistics and tactics standpoint than anything.

But this incredibly diverse group of people had very quickly become a new family for him. Nat had smoothed the way, showing him that none of them quite belonged in society at large, shepherding him, all of them, like an older sister. Clint, for all he was older than Steve, and probably had more kills under his belt, still made Steve feel like a protective older brother. He equally wanted to show him the world, and stand between him and the world. Thor was the fun uncle, who always wanted to party and enjoy himself, and leave the discipline for Mom and Dad. Bruce was quieter, the uncle you could go to for advice you didn't want to ask about from your parents. 

And then there was Stark. Tony. He'd thought, when he first heard that Howard had a son who was also an inventor, and more so when he got his first look at Tony, that he would be having to remind himself every few minutes that the son was not the father, and he couldn't treat them the same. But Tony was so completely his own person, there were moments Steve forgot there was even anyone else in the room, just caught up in Tony's voice, and his manic hands, and his completely unique ideas. Tony _thought_ differently than anyone else, seeing the world like his holographic interfaces in the lab. 

It took a while for Steve to realize that he was watching Tony more than the others. At first he'd watched them all equally, as much as he could. He made mental notes about how they interacted with each other, when and how much they ate and slept, what conversations would raise or lower the mood of the group, all the little things that went along with being a good leader. But once he knew those things well enough to monitor them subconsciously (it only took a handful of weeks, after all), he slowly discovered that his attention gravitated to Tony. It was easy enough to explain, at first- Tony _did_ gesture very freely with his hands, which drew the eye, and he _was_ always talking, but Thor was much louder. Steve's first real clue was one night, when he was making dinner, and he realized that he was hoping awful hard that Bruce would drag Tony out of the labs tonight. Somehow, it had become the highlight of his day, that moment when Tony showed up in the kitchen doorway.

Steve could always tell what sort of a day Tony had had, just by the tone of his voice as he came up the stairs. Good days, he would be joking and teasing Bruce, or expounding on some new area of research, or singing songs that were on the radio when Steve was in the ice. (He'd heard plenty of those songs' original versions, too, of course, but in almost every case he preferred Tony's 'cover' of it. Now that he thought about it, that was probably another clue...) Bad days, he would be ranting, sounding off on topics that might or might not have any sort of relation to the reason for his bad mood. But either way, he would come around the corner, and Steve would already be looking over, and their eyes would meet, and Steve could feel his spirits lift, no matter what sort of day he had had.

One of the Serum's side effects was that Steve didn't sleep much anymore, which was pretty useful in helping him adjust to this new, bright, fast future. He could spend hours watching musicals from the 50s, candy-colored and absurdly optimistic, or wandering through the rabbit warren of Wikipedia. He had spent whole weekends with one teammate or another, 'marathoning' seasons of their favorite tv shows. So, when not just his daytime thoughts, but his right-before-bed thoughts, and his first-thing-in-the-morning thoughts, and every single thought he _had_ turned to Tony Stark, he took to the Internet to try and figure it out. 

The Internet was... instructional. He'd already had the 'the Internet is full of porn' talk from Tony. And Clint. And Nat, but she'd been more helpful, helping him figure out how to tell which Google links were blue videos, or written smut, instead of what he was actually looking for. (Clint had mentioned Safe Search, but Nat dismissed it as a crutch.) Granted, that was a bit harder to discern when your search was 'want to kiss my male friend', and he'd stumbled across some _very_ eye-opening things (and gone through far more lotion and paper tissues than he was comfortable admitting), but in the end he decided it was time to redefine himself again, and make some more waves.

He didn't let himself think about what might happen after. In noticing Tony, he had also seen Tony notice him, at least a little, so there was a possibility of something there, but Tony was a known womanizer. Steve had only ever heard of him going with women, generally only for short periods of time, and very public about all of it. Most likely he wasn't interested in men at all, but even if he was, he clearly kept things well hidden, and Steve had no interest in being anyone's dirty little secret, or hidden lover-on-the-side. Heck, despite all the changes he'd embraced, he wasn't even interested in the modern ideas of hookups and friends with benefits. He wanted a real relationship, with dates and anniversaries and waking up together, and if Tony wasn't capable of that with him, or wasn't willing to try, Steve wasn't going to push. Or get his hopes up. It would be enough to just live honestly, and if he was lucky, he would find someone else who really understood the life of a superhero. And had a mind that fascinated him. And who wanted to teach him things. And was heart-stoppingly beautiful. If he was really, seriously lucky...

Oh, well. Up and at 'em, soldier...

*A*A*

The next time everyone was gathered for dinner, Steve knew he had to do it. No matter how much his heart was pounding, or his breath coming short. He downed his beer, hoping it would help, then, when everyone was suddenly staring, blurted it out. “So, I learned a new term this week, and I think it applies to me. Bisexual.” He snagged the nearest beer and downed that, too. Had his heart stopped, just for a moment? Oh, god, please don't anyone freak out...

Tony's face broke out in the biggest grin Steve had ever seen on him, and his heart started beating again, twice as fast. “Welcome to the club!” Oh, god, did that mean-? Was he really-? Could he maybe-?

Nat was grinning widely too. “Ooh, we should have buttons. Or shirts? I could rock a 'Bi and Proud' shirt...” Wait, what was happening? _How_ was it happening? Steve's thoughts were whirling.

Thor frowned and leaned in. “Friend Steve, I am happy to support you, but I do not know this term either. Please explain?”

Oh, god, now he had to define it? Why hadn't he planned for this part? “It's someone who, you know... goes with, um, sleeps with, both men and women.” Good enough, right? Oh, wow, and now Thor was saying... Wow. OK. So, nobody was taking things particularly badly. Bruce was calm, as usual, and Clint was a bit spastic, nothing new there, and nobody was freaking out. More than that, more than just supporting him from the sidelines, they'd come out to each other. They were all being more honest with each other. And Tony was staring at him. Oh, god, Tony was staring... 

Well, ok, not exactly _at_ him, more _through_ him, but with eyes sort of half-glazed, and in absolute silence. Tony was _never_ silent, which was definitely an indicator of _something_ ; the half-hopeful, half-terrified look on his face gave Steve some hope that Tony's thoughts were tracking in the same general direction as his. _Now_ , now that the hard part was over, he could maybe start thinking about... Well, kissing and all of that. He could look at Tony's lips across the table and wonder how they would feel against his. He could watch those hands, usually so mobile, currently moving tikka masala mechanically from bowl to mouth, but still elegant. He could think about Tony's body, usually barely-covered in worn t-shirts and old jeans, but with wiry muscle showing through. Oh, those muscles. For all he talked about getting people to do things for him, Tony preferred to do everything in his lab himself, and when that was electronics and robotics, he ended up lifting and hauling some pretty substantial chunks of metal, and it showed. He would never compare to some of the 'gym rats' Steve had seen on Coney Island this summer, but then again Tony didn't try for his muscles. He just lived his life, and a fantastic body just sort of happened for him. Once, Steve would have been jealous, but now he was mostly enjoying the view.

When it came time to choose pictures, Steve brought up Robin Hood because he knew the basic story. There would be variations, of course, but he would know the characters, and the general plot, and he wouldn't have to pay too much attention. When the team settled in, and he was left alone on the sofa with Tony, he took it as a positive sign. He put just enough of his awareness on the picture that he could react right, and let the rest of his body tune itself to Tony. Now it was obvious that Tony was focusing on him. He wasn't even trying to hide it, his face turned away from the screen and toward Steve. He was just close enough that Steve could feel the heat of his body and the buzz of the arc reactor, and Steve wanted, possibly more than he'd ever wanted anything, to drape his arm over Tony's shoulders and pull him closer, to hold him tight...

The second picture was very funny (he even thought he caught most of the references), and Clint singing about being a man in tights was frankly hilarious, but the bawdy jokes were quite the opposite of helpful to his general mood... and the tightness of his jeans. He knew he couldn't keep on like this. There was no way he could work effectively with Tony while being so distracted by him, and that meant that he couldn't lead properly either. There was no help for it, he was going to have to make a move. And then, if things went well, maybe he could talk Tony around to trying a relationship. Maybe Pepper would have some advice. (Was that weird, asking someone's ex for advice on how to be in a relationship with them? Steve thought he might be desperate enough not to care.)

Almost before the picture was over, Tony was jumping up and running away upstairs. Steve made himself stay a few minutes, say good night to everyone, even straighten the sofa pillows... And now he was stalling. He told himself that if he went up and Tony was already in bed, he wouldn't bother him, but he wasn't sure that wasn't a lie. He moved with the quiet speed he still blessed the Serum for giving him, but when he caught sight of Tony, standing at the window, framed by the city lights, he froze in place, hardly able to breathe with the beauty of the moment. He could feel himself memorizing every detail, vowing to get it down on paper as soon as he could, no matter what the next few minutes brought.

He cleared his throat, but Tony didn't seem to notice. “Tony?” He jumped, and turned wide-eyed to look at Steve. “Sorry, did I startle you?”

Tony clearly tried to gather himself. “No. I mean, yeah, but it's fine. Was there something you needed?”

There was too much space between them. Steve drifted closer. “No, actually. I thought there might be something up with you. You were awful quiet all evening. You ok?” Oh, sure, great, go all mother hen on him. That's awful romantic, Rogers!

Tony made a sound something like a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind. Genius and all, remember?” Oh, god, please let that mean that he really was thinking about- Well, he was looking an awful lot, right?

Without any instruction, Steve's feet brought him closer, close enough to see Tony's face, barely illuminated by the city lights and the arc reactor glowing through his shirt. How to ask? How to even bring up-? Damnit, he was no good at this! “Is this about my announcement at dinner? Were you, um... hoping to come out first? Or planning to never come out? Or-” Please not the second one, please not the second one...

Tony's whole body twitched. “No. No, nothing like that, it was probably overdue for me to come out, I really do want to tell the whole world, and all that. I just...” His eyes drifted down; Steve could almost _feel_ the heat of his gaze as it slid across his chest, his belly... Steve could feel every drop of blood in his body rush for his jock, leaving his skin on fire behind it. When Tony's eyes met his again, he could see the same hot desire there. “I was just gonna have a drink and hit the hay, no need to worry about me, Captain Grandma.” He waved an arm, but that just distracted Steve with the play of his muscles.

Steve was being magnetically drawn toward Tony, and he barely caught himself before touching him. “Really? Because you seem pretty agitated to me. I kinda think...” Oh, wow, he was really doing this. He was going to kiss Tony Stark, and judging by the sparks he was already feeling, it was going to be amazing. He mentally crossed his fingers. “I _hope_ , you want to kiss me. Because I want to kiss y-” He was cut off by Tony's lips latching on to his, and Holy God, it was good. Skin-scorchingly good. Steve had no idea kissing could be this good. Tony's tongue was exploring his mouth, coaxing Steve's tongue into his own mouth... Their arms were wrapped around each other, pressing their chests close, and their jocks... Steve never wanted this moment to end, but he also was desperate to get to the rest of it, his body screaming for it... Tony broke the kiss, and Steve took a moment to pant for breath. “Well, I guess that answers that. Wow.”

Tony nodded against his chest. “Yeah, seriously wow.” Steve felt him tense up and lift his head, and looked down to see his eyes a little wild. “Steve, God, you have no idea how much I want- But I'm screwed up, I screw up everyone around me, you shouldn't-” 

Steve's heart broke, just a little, for Tony, who was so brilliant, and so broken. So ready to believe that he was wrong, at fault, needing to be punished for being who he was... Steve's mind flashed to a website he'd stumbled across while researching sexuality, a website he'd returned to more than a few times since, with men in leather jockstraps, with whips and paddles. There had been one photo, with a dark-haired boy on his knees, hands bound behind his back, in front of a blond man holding a cricket bat. Suddenly all Steve could see was them, in that pose, Tony finally having some damn discipline, because Steve was imposing it on him, expecting it of him. He put on his best Team Leader Voice. “Tony.” Some sort of tension ran out of Tony, and Steve suspected, by the way he was suddenly leaning, that he'd never really had anyone to lean on before. Steve knew he could be that person. But he'd have to draw it all out carefully, gently. “Tony... you want this, yes?” Tony nodded, wary but hopeful, and Steve let his own hope show. “So do I. Oh, I want...” And this time he took control, took charge of the kiss, trying to show Tony how much he wanted him, giving in to the desire, the screaming aching _need_ to feel those perfect gluteus muscles.

Tony seemed to feel about the same. “Steve. I want to.... Oooh, I promise I want to be a gentleman, and take you out to a restaurant where they'll make us wear ties, but right now I need... Oh, I need you.... Please... Bed. Bedroom. Can we-” Steve's hands were moving automatically, scooping Tony up to carry him so they didn't have to stop kissing. He was amazingly glad of his enhanced balance, what with the distraction of his jock, brushing against Tony's ass with every step, and Tony's jock, a hot stripe across his stomach. Oh, good God, and now Tony was biting his neck, and how could biting possibly be that sexy? Was Tony talking? “So hot. Seriously, you, doing this, might just be the hottest thing ever. But don't hold me to that, the night is yo-oh.” 

They were in the bedroom now, and wearing far too many clothes. Steve needed to touch Tony, taste his skin... take his own shirt off? Why was Tony pulling away? Was he... _hiding_ the arc reactor? “Hey now.” He started to pull Tony's hand away, but stopped himself before he could apply any force. “Nothing to be ashamed of here.” He needed Tony to see the truth in his eyes, needed to touch him as much as he could. “First of all, I knew it was there, you've had it as long as I've known you. Second, I think it's beautiful. Not just for itself, not just because it's keeping you alive, but because it came from your mind, and I think you might have the most beautiful mind I've ever known. I-” Oh, God, he'd almost said it! It was _far_ too early to even think about saying it, though he realized he already felt it. And they hadn't even gotten their pants off yet! He tried to put it into the kiss instead. “I don't ever want you to hide it from me.” 

That was apparently the right thing to say, because Tony's mouth was suddenly everywhere, kissing and licking and biting, while his hands undid Steve's fly. Steve stumbled back under the onslaught, and fell onto the bed, barely feeling the impact. The next thing he knew, there was wet heat engulfing his jock, and he sat up with a yelp. Tony, mouth wrapped around his jock, looking up pseudo-innocently at him through his lashes, was possibly the hottest thing Steve had ever seen, and he sagged backwards, barely catching himself enough to be able to watch. He had to concentrate on trying to memorize the moment, because otherwise he was probably going to pop in Tony's mouth, and that would be beyond embarrassing.

Tony must have known, since he pulled away (oh, wow, even that felt pretty amazing!) and got out of the rest of his clothes. He dug around in the bedside table, but before Steve could see what he'd gotten, he was back, climbing into Steve's lap, kissing him, pressing their jocks together... Steve felt like fireworks had gone off in his crotch, a live wire from Tony into him... 

The next thing he knew, he was propped up against Tony's headboard, and Tony was gasping something against his mouth. “I want... oh, God, I want you inside me, but you're huge, you're going to have to prep me a bit first, please, I want you to...” What did he mean-? Oh, that was lubricant he'd dropped- Oh, and now he was kissing again, and Steve had to fumble with the tube of lubricant, which at least distracted his libido a little. He broke the kiss to try to get a look at what he was doing, and accidentally squeezed the tube. Well, at least it landed in nearly the right place... He scooped some of it up, trailing it along the crack until he found a different texture. He explored around it a little, getting a sense of it, then slid one finger inside. 

Oh, GOD! The tight heat shot straight from his finger to his jock, and Steve nearly went off right then. He had to hold _very_ still, and just breathe... Tony was clearly impatient, pushing up against his palm, and Steve closed his eyes, refocused, and concentrated on exploring Tony's most private place, learning the shape and the feel of it... When his finger was sliding easily in and out, he withdrew it almost completely, then gently added a second finger. This was tougher, until Steve remembered the lubricant in his other hand. He squeezed out another drop, guiding it with his knuckles, and, OH! His fingers were delving deep, and he could feel every clench and flex of Tony's body, every gasp and whimper as Steve opened him wider and wider...

Tony's voice was low and rough. “Oh, God, yes, fill me, feels so good, please, more, deeper...” And Steve tried his best, stretching his fingers wide to stretch Tony out, exploring as deep as he could... “Please, yes, ok, god, that's good, that's better than good, that's enough...” Steve could barely understand, lost in a haze of lust, but he felt Tony pull away a little, and so he started to pull his fingers back. Were they done? Was this the next step? What-? Tony's head lifted, and Steve met his eyes, those dark eyes even darker now, but with white-hot fire deep within. “Enough fingers. I need the real thing. I- ohhhh” Steve pulled his fingers out, quickly at first, until the sensation shot right to his jock again, and he nearly went off, _again_. Ohhh, he was _definitely_ not going to last long once he was properly inside Tony. Hopefully he would recover as quickly with a partner as he had every night last week, in front of his computer.

Tony, kneeling upright now, grasped Steve's jock, firmly enough - _oh, thank God_ \- to bring him back from the edge. Steve opened his eyes, wanting to watch, and Tony locked gaze with him, stealing Steve's breath away. (The artist part of his brain was noting down every detail, but the rest of him was living entirely in the moment.) Then Tony slowly, almost gently, lowered himself down onto Steve's jock. Steve concentrated on breathing, driven nearly crazy by the tight heat slowly enveloping him. This was- God, this was the most incredible thing ever. No wonder everyone was obsessed with it! 

His entire jock was inside Tony now, and Tony's head was falling back, the olive column of his throat lit that perfect blue by the arc reactor. Tony writhed, and Steve yelped, and grabbed the nearest solid object, which turned out to be Tony's hips. Ooh, that was good too, all that wiry muscle... Tony looked down at him in concern. “OK? Are you? Is this?”

Steve tried to remember what words were. “Good. It's good. You're... Oh, God, you feel so damn good... You're so warm, so hot, so tight... Please, will you, can you...” He ran out, and tried to use his hands to show what he meant. Fortunately, Tony got it, and started to move in earnest. Steve felt like his whole body was burning up, a bonfire building to a forest fire low in his belly. Tony's hips under his hands were his only anchor to the world- He exploded. His entire body turned inside out and burst out of his jock, leaving nothing but blissful fog behind.

Tony's voice brought him back again. “Oh. Well, then.” Damn, that _had_ been too quick. But, really, the orgasm had only taken the edge off his lust, it would be fine, he just had to- “I guess we can-” Tony started to shift away.

Steve clutched at him.“No, hold on, just give me a minute...” Just had to refocus, think about something other than his jock for a little while. He finally - _finally_ \- let himself indulge in running his hands over Tony's torso, marveling at how soft his skin was, soaking in the tingle of the arc reactor. 

Oh, Tony _definitely_ liked _that_. “Ohhh... yesss...” Oh, and now he was flexing _those_ muscles! “Oh! Oh, my God, really? Damn, gotta love that Serum! Mmmm...” He started to move again, and Steve was lost in a sea of pleasure. His world narrowed to the lava-hot tightness around his jock, the flex and shift of the hips in his hands. His body responded without his direction, his own hips rising to crash against Tony's, and still they weren't close enough. He wanted to pour himself, body and soul, into Tony, wanted them to merge completely. He was pretty sure he was saying some of this stuff out loud, but that didn't matter in the slightest. 

Tony shifted his angle, and cried out, the most beautiful noise Steve had ever heard. He rocked again, and turned to look at Steve in gorgeous desperation. Steve slid a hand over to grab hold of Tony's jock (for the first time? How had that happened?) and stroke it, which sent Tony screaming over the edge. Between the sound, the ragged clench of inner muscles, and the sight of Tony, head thrown back and drops of milky liquid spurting from his jock, Steve hurtled headlong into his own orgasm.

Tony collapsed down onto him, and for long moments they just lay there, hearts pounding and breathing ragged. The feel of the arc reactor against his chest was like a lullaby, and Steve felt himself drifting toward sleep, until Tony shifted and lifted his head. Steve blinked open his eyes, and let all of the emotions he felt shine through in his smile. “Hey, handsome.” One hand drifted up, of its own accord, to feel how soft Tony's hair was. Oh, God, he was. He was in love with this man, and there was no going back. Tony made a delightful little happy noise, and Steve made one back. “Well, I guess _you_ enjoyed yourself. Good.”

Tony had on the most authentic smile Steve had ever seen out of him. “Oh, yeah. You apparently enjoyed yourself twice!” His grin somehow got even more wicked. “Which, gotta say, cum from the first time squishing around in there for round two? Way hotter than you'd think. Guess it's been a while for you, though, huh?” 

Steve was caught for a moment by the realization that yes, he'd gone off twice, and the results of both were still rather acting as lubricant. Then his brain caught up to Tony's question, and he burst out in a blush. “Been forever, technically. I've never- never before-” _Oh, that'll do it. He won't want to hold my hand through_ -

Tony looked confused. “Never been with a guy?” Oh, God, was he going to have to explain? He could feel Tony pulling away. Oh, God, no... “Never been with _anyone_? You're a virgin?”

_That_ stung. “Was. Not exactly am anymore, in case you hadn't noticed!” He flexed his hips up. Oh, no, bad plan! Focus, Rogers!

And now Tony was laughing at him! This was just getting worse... Everything had been so perfect... “Oh, my God, I just deflowered Captain America!” Steve's mood was crashing. Was Tony going to go blabbing to the papers about what they'd just done? Could Steve just die of mortification right now? “Oh, my God! That was you without any practice or experience or anything? Hot damn, get you some training, you are going to be a sex god, I don't know whether I want to share you with everyone, or at least the people I want to reward, or just keep you for myself and gloat to people that they will never have sex as good as what I'm getting.” Well, ok, that didn't sound quite so terrible... “Oh, my God, I just took Steve Rogers' virginity!” Steve blinked, and Tony was standing up and dancing around. 

There was a small part of Steve that wanted to break out in delighted laughter at the ridiculous little dance Tony was doing, but the rest of him was miserable. It was as bad as he'd feared. He would be another notch on Tony's bedpost, maybe a few pages or a chapter in Tony's eventual memoirs; worst case, Tony really would push him on people, expect him to jump into bed with them, just to prove something. He summoned a smile. “Well, I'm glad you're pleased with yourself.”

Tony took one look at him and leapt back into bed, still grinning. “Hey, I'm pretty pleased with you, too. That was incredible. Seriously. I never would have guessed that it was your first time. And I won't tell people if you don't want me to.” He suddenly looked stricken, as miserable as Steve felt, and turned his face away. “I mean, we don't have to tell anyone about any of this, if you don't want to. I know people don't brag about me, except to the tabloids.” He sounded almost broken, and Steve's heart broke for him again. 

Steve needed to touch him, to be fully honest, to look him in the eye and see if there was the possibility... “I would be happy to brag about you to whoever. I'm more than willing to tell people. What do _you_ want?”

Tony was panting, short sharp little breaths across Steve's wrist. “I- I want you. I want to date you, I want this all the time, God, I want to take out billboards and tv ads telling the whole damn world that we're together. I want anything you'll give me!” He was trembling as he pressed closer, ever closer to Steve. Steve was more than happy to gather him in. “I know I'm going to fuck it up, and I'm already sorry, you can quote me on that later, but if you'll let me, I want to try in the meantime.”

Steve wanted to cry for all the times someone had bruised Tony's heart, had made him fearful of relationships. He understood, now, why Tony seemed to favor short-term encounters, and he vowed to himself that he would never, ever hurt him like that. “Hey, hey, relax, shh, shh, it's ok. I want this too, I want you... I'm not sure I want the billboard, but yeah, I want you, and I doubt you're going to screw it up as bad as you think.” He met Tony's eyes earnestly, and dared a joke. “So, if I stay here tonight, am I going to wake up to Pepper hustling me out the door?”

It had the desired effect; Tony laughed and relaxed against him. “If she does, I'll fire her for being a jealous bitch. Honestly, though. Please stay. This... this is really good.” He paused thoughtfully. “Well, ok, there is one way it could be better. Stay put.” He got up, and Steve lay back, happy to drift as Tony splashed about in the washroom. He was going to have to prove to Tony that he wasn't going anywhere, but perversely he thought tying him to the bed might just do it. Oh, there was a pleasant thought, Tony naked, splayed and vulnerable... Tony returned, bearing a washcloth with which he cleaned Steve up. Oh, wow, was he already falling into that role? Oh, this was going to be good...

When Tony finished cleaning his jock, he kissed it, and Steve felt a glow in his chest. He had to try... “Good pet.” More tension drained out of Tony, and Steve found he could barely keep his eyes open. “Sleep now?” He had just enough energy to wrap an arm around Tony and pull him close, before sleep pulled him under. 

*A*A*

Steve woke as soon as the rising sun hit the bed, but he found no need and no reason to move. He would almost have expected disorientation, confusion about the body draped over his, but he could feel the arc reactor, Tony's heart, separated from his own by nothing more than his own flesh. This was... _right_. It sounded sappy, like something out of a romance picture, but right now he felt like he and Tony were... destined to meet, like all that time in the ice was so they could be adults together, be _this_ together. He let himself just lay there and bask in the warmth he felt, inside and out.

Eventually, Tony's breathing changed, quickened, then, when he moved, caught, in a way that spoke of muscle soreness. Steve knew he sounded smug. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Tony smiled at him sleepily, then the smile got bigger... and bigger... “Good morning yourself. I might even say great morning, but that might ruin my rep as a laid-back guy.”

Steve was already bubbling with happiness, and the absurdity of that made him boil over into laughter. “Yes, because when I think of Tony Stark, I think laid back. Wouldn't want to break that illusion.” He couldn't help it, he had to kiss him. There was so much he wanted to say... No, not yet. Better to keep it light for now. “So, Bucky always told me, if they let you stay the night, make breakfast for 'em the next day. You want breakfast?”

Tony's eyes lit up with mischief. “So if I get you to move in here, does that mean you'll make me breakfast every day?” Steve's heart flared with hope, but Tony froze, looking horrified at himself. “Um. I, ah, don't have to have said that. If, ah. I mean, I know we're probably already moving awfully fast for you, we haven't even had a real date, we can take this at your pace-”

_Oh, Tony. Oh, you poor frightened pet_. Steve's boiling-over emotions drove him to kiss Tony again. “I would love to move in with you, if you actually meant it. I- I would be honored.” Hmm, maybe too much emotion. Back to a light mood. “But I'm not going to make you breakfast every single morning. Just because we're living together doesn't mean I'm a good little housewife.”

Well, that seemed to work, if the filthy grin on Tony's face was anything to go by. “Aw, really? I was so hoping to see you in nothing but an apron and rubber gloves...” And then Tony was kissing him, and they were rubbing against each other, and oh, God, he needed more...

Steve's hands seemed to be magnetically attracted to Tony's hips, but when he touched them, Tony tensed and gave a little gasp. Steve pulled away. “Oh, sorry! Wait, what?” He scooted up and back, suddenly worried he'd done something wrong. Tony sat up with him, and the blankets fell away. Steve was both horrified and incredibly turned on to see bruises in the shape of his hands on Tony's hips. Steve wanted awful badly to touch them, to run his fingertips along them, but he didn't quite dare. “Oh, wow, did I do that to you? Jeeze, Tony, I'm sorry, I didn't-” Didn't plan to, didn't ask first, but oh, he was going to ask next time, cover him in hand-shaped bruises...

Oh, and Tony was back to that genuine grin. Oh, that was a very good sign. “Nah, this is good. Souvenirs! They're not even that bad.” He sprawled out, looking utterly debauched, and Steve felt his lust beginning to build. “Heck, I've gotten worse sparring.” And now he was thinking about them sparring, wrestling for dominance... “Hey, now. I am in no way upset here. Seriously, Pepper used to give me these scratches all up and down my back....”

And now he was thinking about _his_ nails clawing at Tony, and, oh _God_ he needed to touch, to taste.... He faked outrage. “What, so to reassure me, you bring up your ex? I can't believe you would-” Excellent, he caught Tony off guard, his mouth half-open and waiting for Steve's tongue. He let himself get lost in the kiss, in the feel of the strong, compact body under his. He wanted to plunge into Tony's body, he wanted to lie here like this and kiss him all day, he wanted- His stomach rumbled, and he realized he actually kind of _needed_ food. He disengaged, reluctantly. “Much as, God, I would _love_ to continue this, I think we really do need breakfast.”

Tony looked conflicted. “If we must.” Steve could see the scheming blossom across his face. “Hmm, you know, I think we'll need eggs and bacon, to fuel more escapades later....” He got up out of bed, and Steve took a moment to enjoy the way the early-morning light played across his dusky skin. Tony bent over to rummage in a drawer, and Steve had to fight down the nearly overwhelming urge to walk up behind him, grab him by the hips, and- he was jolted out of the thought by fabric hitting his head, and he shook himself out and got up to get dressed. Tony grinned at him. “The shirt might be a bit small, and half the team will probably figure out that you slept up here just by what you're wearing, but if I let you go down there naked, then Thor will think it's ok to walk around naked, and I so do not need that image in my brain.”

Steve pictured it, and couldn't help laughing. “Yeah, I'm good with avoiding that. Especially with the crazy photos the _Bugle_ has been getting lately.” He claimed another kiss from Tony, feeling like he was _sweating_ happiness. He was sure everyone who looked at him would be able to see it, and (this was the best part) _no one would care_. They could kiss on a street corner in Brooklyn, or in Times Square, and the most likely reaction from strangers would be cheers and whistling. The future was _brilliant_! “I think the team will figure things out pretty quickly as soon as I kiss you at breakfast.”

Tony was glowing just as much, but somehow in a dirtier way. “Well, you know, if you want to make it even more obvious, we could give each other hickeys right now...” Steve didn't recognize the term at first, but when Tony started biting at his neck, he got it, fast. Oh, wow, Tony wanted to mark him up, wanted to show him off... Oh, wow, that was awful hot...

Steve wanted it, wanted Tony's mark on him... “Mmm, yeah...” But dammit, he was the one in charge here, he had to be responsible. “Wait, no. You are a very tempting man, Tony Stark, but we both need food, and then I'm pretty sure you have a job to go to.” He saw his reluctance mirrored in Tony's face, but he stiffened his... spine, and took them both downstairs. 

Steve knew his team well enough to know they would all be awake and hungry soon enough, so he adapted his plans to that, and got out a whole rasher of bacon, and an 18-pack of eggs (such luxury, meat _and_ eggs for every meal if they wanted). They should probably have some carbohydrates too, so he glanced over at Tony, hovering by the coffee machine. “You want pancakes too?” Tony nodded so enthusiastically that Steve couldn't help grinning at him. “Grab me the mix, then?” Oh, and the luxury of pre-mixed pancake batter! Wonders and marvels...

Tony slurped his coffee, and Steve was almost embarrassed at how endearing he found that. “I get that I might have made you a bit hungry, but do the two of us really need this much food?”

Steve laughed; he loved surprising or confusing Tony- it happened so rarely. “The two of us probably don't, but when is any meal around here just the two of us? The rest of the team is going to show up pretty soon. Probably as soon as they smell bacon. I figured I'd be prepared.”

Oh, and he loved Tony's laugh. “Excellent strategizing, Rogers. See, this is why I-” He faltered, but only for a split second, just long enough for Steve to notice and wonder about. “I keep you around. Because you plan ahead. But maybe save cooking the bacon for last?” He burst into a flurry of action, and Steve politely turned away, half his attention on the cooking process, the other half nursing a spark of hope, a glimmer of plans. 

But that spark was fragile, and they'd hardly talked about things, and Steve's mind kept flashing back to that moment last night when Tony had crowed about 'Captain America's virginity', and what if he was just doing this for the novelty of going with a superhero? What if the novelty wore off, and he got bored? Steve didn't think he could live with that. No, that was ridiculous. Wasn't it? “So, ah... I'm not sure exactly how to ask this...” But apparently he was going to.

Tony was relaxed, open, joking. “Don't worry, I'm clean. I get tested every six months. Safety first!”

Oh, wow, where did _that_ come from? “I wasn't asking _that_! Besides, I don't get viral or bacterial infections anymore.” Steve was sure he was blushing. “No, I... I just... How much of, of last night and all of this, is because I'm, you know, _him_?” And then he couldn't even ask properly! Good job, Rogers!

Tony moved closer, close enough to share body heat. “He's part of you, you know.” Well, at least he understood... “I mean, I get that you still think of yourself as the skinny kid from the projects, witness your shirt collection, but I've seen Erskine's notes. The things that make you Captain America were there already when he found you, the Serum just brought them out.” He wanted to protest all of it, but Tony's voice was hypnotic. “I mean, I'm not complaining that it also brought out muscles for days, and, you know, all that... stamina.” Tony's voice was also husky and tantalizing and deeply erotic. “But you're not just some meathead, and you're not an empty suit and a fancy Frisbee. You're smart, maybe smarter than any of us realize, you're a good leader, good with people. I mean, you're genuinely nice, and that never happens. Seriously, I know there are nice people out there, but they get within a mile of me, their inner asshole comes out, no one is nice around me, but you manage it, and I am truly impressed.” Steve wanted to smile, and cry, and hug him, all at once, but Tony pulled away a bit, looking unsettled. “I, um, almost feel like I should be asking if you're with me just because I remind you of my dad. Or because I'm absurdly wealthy. Or...”

Steve acted without thinking. He needed to remind Tony that he'd been claimed, that Steve had chosen _him_ , and there was one quick and easy way to do that. His hands wanted to be there, on Tony's hips, anyway, and from the way Tony's eyes lost focus, his hips wanted hands there too. “So, then, we agree. We're together because of who we are outside of the suits. I'm good with that. Go get plates.” He put a little bit of an order into the last part, and was pleased to see Tony obey without thought. Like a magic charm, the smell of bacon summoned the rest of the team, and Steve felt something settle in his chest. His family was gathered, enjoying his food, and he was about to move in with his lover. Life was good, and he couldn't help grinning madly at Tony, who grinned just as madly back. 

Nat, of course, figured it out instantly. “ _Boje moi_! You two are together! When the hell did that happen?”

Clint, not far behind, still had to be his obnoxious-younger-brother self. “Holy shit, they are! Look how smug you both are!” He glared at Steve. “Stop it! Stop making that face! Captain America should not have 'I just had fantastic sex' face!”

He could tell it had been fantastic just from his face? Well, he supposed he was grinning pretty wide. He squelched the grin, but that just redirected the mischief. “And what exactly is wrong with fantastic sex? Should I be ashamed of being a healthy adult with a sex drive?” Oh, how he loved to wind Clint up. He always had the best reactions... “I thought Americans, in the 21st century, would be more enlightened than that.” Like that. He couldn't keep the laughter in any longer. “Oh, your _face_! Ha, oh, you totally deserved that!”

Bruce, on the other hand, could be counted on to be dignified. “Well, I for one say congratulations. You both deserve happiness, and if you're finding it together I couldn't be happier for you.”

And Tony could pretend to be dignified, at least. “Thank you. So glad someone is happy for us. Just for that you get to pick next week's movies.”

Thor, well, he was boisterous, and that was good too. “Excellent! Our leader has a shield-mate, this will be excellent for the team!” Shield-mate. Someone to stand back-to-back with him against everything the world, the _universe_ threw at them. That sounded awful good to Steve. “You must vow to discuss your troubles with one another, lest they fester within and poison you, and then us.” 

And some awful good advice, too. Hopefully he could follow it. “Believe me, I plan to try. Tough with this one, though.” Tony was going to be a tough nut to crack, but Steve knew it would be worth it, to both of them. 

Witness his covering humor. “Excuse me? I think I was pretty forthcoming last night...” 

Clint's face showed that he was making a sex joke. “How much cumming?” Steve wasn't sure he was comfortable with sex jokes, but he was getting there, and everyone was laughing, so of course he joined in. It felt damn good. 

As the laughter died down, Tony looked around without meeting anyone's eyes. “Though I have been thinking about something. It's the end of September, right? So... National Coming Out Day is in just a couple of weeks. I'm thinking, press conference, big announcement, et cetera, et cetera. I can do it alone if you guys don't want to-”

Oh, wow. He was really, seriously serious about this. Well, far be it from Steve to hide from the world. “I'm in.”

And of course the others weren't far behind. Nat's reply was very Russian. “Might as well, it's not like the fanboys can objectify me more, right?”

And Thor's was very... Thor. “It is well. We will spread the superior way of Asgard to all of Midgard with our example!” Steve couldn't wait to see the reporters' reactions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, life in a geek household... “Hey, honey, do you think Steve Rogers says 'jock' or 'shlong'?”
> 
> You'll have to pardon me, this is my first story posted to this site, I may have some minor formatting and whatnot issues as I get used to it. I'm glad to see there are already bookmarks and kudos, they make my muse very happy. She's got lots brewing, so stick around.
> 
> In a related note, yes, there will be a press conference. And you know the reporters will have stupid questions for one or all of them. In fact, if you know a stupid question they might ask, please leave it in a comment, or send me a message. If I like it, and/or can think of a funny answer, I might use it when that bit comes around.


	3. Sexual Encounters 101

Tony was peppier than usual in the elevator on his way down several floors to his official public Stark Industries office and lab. Heck, he was almost singing and dancing, and that was no good. The lab rats would never again fear him if they saw him at anything less than high dudgeon (he might be able to get away with low dudgeon, just for today. What the heck _was_ dudgeon, anyway? Bet JARVIS could find out...), so he bottled up all of his happy before the elevator doors opened, and stormed through the halls, barking questions and instructions at various minions, moving on to the next before any of them could answer. He had to admit, it was gratifying to watch them all scurry back and forth, trying to anticipate him or prove something to him.

When the staff was sufficiently cowed, he finally let himself retreat to his lab and close the door. He had about fifteen new ideas bouncing around in his brain, and he put in a good solid couple of hours drawing up blueprints, making notes, and generally being a genius. But then his happiness bubbled up again, and he _had_ to share with _someone_ , though maybe not directly.... “Hey, JARVIS, is Pepper available?”

Even JARVIS sounded happy for him. “She's just finished up with a conference call, Sir. Shall I put you through?”

Tony nodded. “That'd be great, thanks.” A moment later, one of his viewscreens lit up with Pepper's face and office. “Pepper! Light of my life, joy of my days-”

Pepper sighed, though she was smiling. “Tony, what did you break this time?”

He mimed being shot. “You wound me! Can't I just be happy, and share that joy with you, my faithful assistant-”

She rolled her eyes. “Boss. Technically, since I'm the CEO, and you're just a department head, I'm your boss now.”

He blatantly ignored her interruption. “-who has been so steadfast, and loyal, and have I mentioned lately how grateful I am for all that you have done for me, for years now? I know I'm kind of a handful...” He couldn't help leering a little at the innuendo. 

Now she was eying him suspiciously. “OK, either you're dying again, or you want a _really_ big favor from me. You're not dying, are you?”

He couldn't help laughing at that. “God, no. I feel like I'm more alive than I've ever been!” He cleared his throat, trying to maintain focus on Pepper. “And it's only a little favor, just part of your day. I just want you to get me a press conference. No rush, actually, what's today, the 28th? You got a couple weeks, then. I'm aiming for Thursday the 11th, maybe late morning? Nothing to do with the company, totally a personal thing, but you know how I hate arranging these things myself, especially when you're so much better at them anyway.” He had too much energy to sit still, he had to get up and pace.

Pepper looked at him like he might actually be a live bomb. “A press conference. On a personal matter. Tony, are you _sure_....? You know what, never mind. Yes, fine, Mr. Stark, I'll arrange that press conference for you, sir, will there be anything else?” She twisted her lip in a way that usually meant she was trying to frown to hide a smile.

He grinned at her. “That will be all, Ms. Potts. Thank you.” His smile softened. “Really, Pep, thanks for all you do. You really are amazing.”

God, he loved making her blush. “You're pretty amazing yourself, Tony. Take care of yourself, ok?” He laughed again as she closed the call.

*A*A*

Pepper was a fair bit more worried than she let on. That was some seriously weird behavior from a man who was _usually_ pretty weird. “JARVIS? Do you know what this is about? How's his health, really?” She got up to pace.

JARVIS hesitated, just long enough for Pepper to notice. “I believe his health to be excellent, Ms Potts. As to the other, well, I'm not sure I should say. I'm given to believe that it's rude.”

Which meant that he knew, and he was probably trying to give her a hint. “OK, what do I know? Personal matter, rude to talk about, specific date... Wait, I know that date. October 11th... October 11th.... Oh, my GOD!” She collapsed back into her chair. “National Coming Out Day. He's finally going to do it.” She grinned. “Good for him. I wonder what prompted that.”

JARVIS sounded thoughtful. “I'm sure I couldn't say, Ms Potts, but on a completely unrelated topic, you may be interested to know that Captain Rogers spent all of last night in Mr Stark's bedroom.”

Pepper's eyes popped open, and her jaw dropped. “Steve?! Tony's sleeping with _Steve_!?” She started to picture it, and had to shake her head sharply before she got some completely inappropriate images in her head. “Wow, I- He- Good for him. Really. I just... Steve.” An absolutely horrific thought occurred to her, and her head snapped around to look at JARVIS' camera in the corner. “Oh, God, he's not, like, going to make out with Steve on national tv, or propose to him, or anything like that, is he?”

JARVIS chuckled. “There is no evidence to suggest that he plans either thing, Ms Potts. Shall I inform you if that changes?”

She managed to scare up a laugh. “Yes, please, JARVIS. And in the meantime, could you see if Steve is available?”

“Of course, Ms Potts.”

A moment later, her viewscreen lit up with Steve's face, the Avengers' gym behind him. “Good morning Pepper, what can I do for you?”

She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. “What are your intentions with Tony?”

He looked startled. “Excuse me?”

She raised one eyebrow. “Don't even try. He came in this morning looking like he should have cute fuzzy woodland creatures frolicking around him, and JARVIS says you spent last night with him. So, what are your intentions? I should tell you that if you break his heart, I will be obligated to bury you in several shallow graves.” She looked at him expectantly.

Steve squirmed, but he looked pleased, too. “I, ah. Wow, that's a pretty effective threat.” He smiled at her, and that smile was enough to tell her he cared just as much about Tony as she did. Maybe more. “Don't worry, though. If I have my way, his heart will never get broken again.” His smile turned wry. “Though if he keeps on like this, we're gonna have our photo in the papers before we can make any announcements. Not that I mind, he's just so excited for the big reveal...” He sighed, and shook his head, but Pepper could tell he was joking around, and it made her feel warm that Serious Steve would joke with her.

She smiled, and nodded approvingly. “Alright, then. I'll tell him to tone it down for a couple weeks, and I'll get working on that press conference. I know I don't have to tell you to watch out for him.”

Steve smiled back. “You know I will. Have a good day, Pepper.”

“You too, Steve. Oh, and Steve?” She gave him a fond look. “If he breaks your heart, let me know, I'll help you plot his painful demise.” They were laughing together as she closed the call.

*A*A*

Tony tried to go back to work after the call with Pepper, but he was really just tinkering with the ideas from earlier, while most of his mind was on Steve. His body was reminding him of how much fun they'd had last night, which made him think of Steve, sprawled out under him, hands gripping his hips... Oh, god, the hand-bruises... He touched one of them gingerly, and immediately had to talk sternly to his cock, which was responding surprisingly quickly. There was no way Tony would be able to sit across a white-clothed table from Steve, and look at him in a nice suit, and not want to just have his way with him right there in the restaurant. The fancy date was definitely going to have to wait. “JARVIS? Is Steve around?”

“I believe so, Sir. One moment.”

The viewscreen popped up, Steve in workout gear (no, wait, that was Tony's shirt, he hadn't even gotten changed...) in the gym, and oh, so sweaty. (Getting Tony's clothes sweaty, and, oh wow, was that a new kink?) Tony just stared for a moment, all _sorts_ of dirty thoughts rushing through his head, til Steve coughed a little. “Tony? Did you want to talk to me, or just stare at my body?”

He was startled into laughter. “Well, you know, now that you mention it...” He gave Steve a quick Elevator Look. “But I did want to say... So, I know I promised you nice suits and a classy meal, but I was hoping you didn't want that _tonight_. I was thinking I could just order Chinese, and we can watch movies on the couch.” He tried to look hopeful but not pathetically eager.

Steve's face lit up in a smile. “Honestly, that sounds pretty great to me. Um...” He turned shy. “I could, maybe... bring all my stuff upstairs? And we can have celebratory egg rolls?”

Tony's heart was pounding so hard he was half-expecting the arc reactor to start vibrating. He tried to be at least a little casual. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. And we can watch movies you've already seen, so if we get distracted...” 

Steve turned bright red, but he was looking pretty happy, too. “I, yeah, that's, that's a good idea. So, um, see you for dinner?”

Tony nodded, already thinking about how he could distract Steve. “Yeah, dinner, good, see you then.” He cut the connection, then realized it might have been a bit abrupt... No, he was not going to be the weirdo that called back to apologize for hanging up first (mostly because he was afraid that they would then spend an hour or two playing 'you hang up first', 'no, you hang up first'). He was more mature than all of that, really.

*A*A*

Steve didn't actually need to work out to maintain his muscles, the Serum took care of that. But he did get restless, itchy under the skin, if he didn't keep active enough. So once Tony had gone down to the public levels, Steve went down one level to the team gym, and started his usual routine: ten klicks on the treadmill, a full circuit on the weight machines SHIELD had specially designed for him, a round of push-ups, sit-ups, and other isometric exercises, and then working out with his special heavy bag until his muscles really started to burn. 

He had just started on the heavy bag when JARVIS interrupted. “Captain Rogers, Ms Potts would like to speak with you, if you are available.”

He stepped back and turned toward the nearest viewscreen. “Of course, JARVIS, put her through.” The viewscreen lit up, and he smiled. “Good morning Pepper, what can I do for you?”

She scowled at him. “What are your intentions with Tony?”

He flinched a little. Oh, no, was she sore? Had he broken some code by not asking her first? Stall for time, Rogers! “Excuse me?”

She got even icier (and Steve knew from ice). “Don't even try. He came in this morning looking like he should have cute fuzzy woodland creatures frolicking around him, and JARVIS says you spent last night with him.” Steve's whole body went cold with shock, then hot with embarrassment. “So, what are your intentions? I should tell you that if you break his heart, I will be obligated to bury you in several shallow graves.”

Pepper was an awful scary lady when she wanted to be. He outright shivered. “I, ah. Wow, that's a pretty effective threat.” But she was worried about Tony, and that was pretty dang sweet. He decided to keep on with his recent policy of honesty. “Don't worry, though. If I have my way, his heart will never get broken again. Though if he keeps on like this, we're gonna have our photo in the papers before we can make any announcements. Not that I mind, he's just so excited for the big reveal...” He couldn't help a fond sigh, not-quite-regretting Tony's impulsive nature. 

She warmed all the way back up, past her usual friendliness, to a welcoming smile. “Alright, then. I'll tell him to tone it down for a couple weeks, and I'll get working on that press conference. I know I don't have to tell you to watch out for him.”

He grinned just as warmly back. “You know I will. Have a good day, Pepper.”

She started to wave the screen away, then paused. “You too, Steve. Oh, and Steve? If he breaks your heart, let me know, I'll help you plot his painful demise.” He was startled into a laugh, and when the call ended he thought maybe he had another to add to his funny little family.

He was just settling into his rhythm on the heavy bag when JARVIS broke in again. “Captain? Sir would like to speak with you.”

Oh, that was promising. “Sure, JARVIS, I'd love to talk to him.” The screen lit up, and there was Tony, opening his mouth to say something. He froze, mouth gaping slightly, eyes glazed over, just staring, for a long moment. Steve was mostly amused, but a little concerned. “Tony? Did you want to talk to me, or just stare at my body?”

Tony jumped. “Well, you know, now that you mention it...” Steve could feel the scorch of his gaze, down and up again. “But I did want to say... So, I know I promised you nice suits and a classy meal, but I was hoping you didn't want that _tonight_. I was thinking I could just order Chinese, and we can watch movies on the couch.” He gave Steve a shaky grin. 

Steve thought about it for about two seconds. “Honestly, that sounds pretty great to me.” Plus, it would hold off the worry about reporters for a little longer. And then there was the other part... Would it be pushing-? He _had_ made the offer... “Um... I could, maybe... bring all my stuff upstairs? And we can have celebratory egg rolls?”

Tony nodded eagerly. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. And we can watch movies you've already seen, so if we get distracted...” 

Oh, wow, he was so thoughtful. Or maybe just horny, but that was good by Steve too. “I, yeah, that's, that's a good idea. So, um, see you for dinner?” Oh, so awkward. At least Tony seemed to find it endearing...

Of course, he was also clearly going back to his default state of 'lost in thought'. “Yeah, dinner, good, see you then.” The connection cut abruptly, but Steve suspected he'd have to get used to that. 

*A*A*

When Steve had finally finished his workout, showered, and gotten some lunch, he figured he probably ought to pack up his things, if he was really going to be moving. He pulled out the couple of duffel bags SHIELD had given him, making short work of filling them with his day-to-day clothes; The Suit was, as always, tucked away in a garment bag, and he slipped his handful of sport coats in with it. Then he went around the room with a knapsack, gathering up all the bits and bobs of life, the photos of him and the team, the novel he'd borrowed from Bruce and hadn't finished yet, his sketchbooks and pencils...

The current book was open to a quick line drawing he'd made a week or two ago, Tony down in the lab, lecturing Dummy, who was trying to offer him a smoothie. Steve smiled, remembering the moment, then flipped to a new page, already slipping into a more recent memory. He reached out, nearly without looking, grabbed a charcoal pencil, and started sketching. Just the silhouette of Tony, the skyline more of a series of dark bulges behind him... He'd meant it to be a quick study, just enough to get the memory down, but then he kept adding more detail, more nuance...

He barely noticed when he flipped to a fresh sheet, scrabbling in the pencil box til he found the right one, thinner, finer lines to capture the layers of innocence and mischief on Tony's face when his lips were stretched around Steve's jock, the way his hair fell so carelessly across his eyes. At some point, he sat down on the floor, under the window where the light was good, but the urge to create was on him now, and he hardly noticed anything else. 

For the next one he used mostly blues, palest right in the middle, where the arc reactor was, darker along his arms and the underside of his chin, almost fiery deep in his eyes. He even added cobalt and deepest indigo in the shadows of his own hands, hinting at the bruises he'd just barely started leaving. He was just turning the page over again, imagining a scene he wanted to create, when JARVIS broke into his reverie. “Captain? Sir is on his way upstairs. If you were planning to meet him...”

Steve's head snapped up. “What? Oh, right, the rest of my packing. Yeah, thanks, JARVIS.” He shut the sketchbook sharply, then stood and pushed all of his materials into the bag, pulling its laces closed. He scooped up the other bags, snagged The Shield, and strode out of the room, not even bothering to look back. He got to the elevator just as it arrived, opening to reveal Tony, carrying not just three paper-and-plastic takeout bags, but a cake box. He grinned and stepped in. “Welcome home, handsome.” The doors closed and he could feel the faintest sensation of movement.

Tony grinned back, and shifted the things in his arms so he could lean in for a kiss. “Hello, handsome, yourself.” He glanced at Steve's burdens, then, when the doors opened, headed out of the elevator and toward the bar and serving area. “Why don't you put that stuff in the bedroom while I lay this out? You gonna go back for the rest of it later?”

Steve, already stepping through the bedroom doorway, paused, then hurried in so he wouldn't have to look at Tony. “I, ah... There is no 'rest'. This is everything.” He opened Tony's (frankly massive) closet, and saw that it was nearly full of really awfully nice suits. Feeling slightly ashamed, and bothered by it, he made quick work of hanging the garment bag and dropping the duffel bags on the floor of the closet. He set the knapsack down more gently, but still in a corner, out of the way.

When he turned, Tony was leaning in the doorway, looking disbelieving. “What, seriously? Everything you own fits into little enough luggage that _I_ could carry it? I mean, I get you were poor as a kid-”

Steve sighed, and tried not to squirm as much as he wanted to. “Yeah, and then I was in a war, and then nearly everyone assumed I was dead for a few decades, and then I was living in SHIELD barracks... Not all of us have the urge for _stuff_ that you do, Tony.” Great, now he was feeling ashamed of his outburst, too. Not exactly the best start to things... He needed out of the bedroom, he needed... food, yes. He headed for the bar and the mostly-unpacked bags.

Tony wisely stepped out of his way, but followed after him. “Well, that just won't do. First of all, if we're going to be seen in public together, you're going to have to do better than off the rack slacks and the same t-shirt as every damn SHIELD grunt. I'll take you to my tailor, he'll be ecstatic to work with your proportions.” He snagged a couple of white cardboard containers and a pair of chopsticks, and flopped down onto the couch. “Second, I have preposterous amounts of money, you should help me spend it. Seriously, I could probably afford to buy two or three small nations. JARVIS, get Steve set up with a debit card and a Black AmEx, both linked to my personal account.” Steve, clutching egg rolls and chopsticks in one hand and more white cardboard in the other, sat hesitantly on the couch, and opened his mouth to object. Tony pointed the chopsticks at him. “Believe me, I will never notice your withdrawals. I hardly pay attention to mine until we get up to medium-sized vehicles. JARVIS?”

He sounded surprisingly put-upon for a being with no patience to test. “The cards are ordered, Sir. They should be here in a day or two. Also, you have a video message from Agent Romanov. Shall I play it?”

Tony waved his hand impatiently, and the screen popped up with Nat's face. “Hey, Tony, Steve. Good news for you boys. Bruce found some science symposium at MIT this weekend, and apparently Dr. Foster is going to be there too, so Thor went with. Clint and I found a 48-hour film festival in Chelsea, so you two have the place to yourselves. Enjoy, try not to break too much furniture!” The image cut out.

Steve knew he was bright red (they all knew! They were giving them privacy, sure, but the whole team knew exactly what was going on up here all weekend!), but he tried to carry on regardless. “Well, that was thoughtful of them.” It certainly made things easier; now there was (very nearly) nothing (except his own damnable shyness) standing between him and a weekend of pure hedonism. And ever since he'd been a teenager, he'd always wanted to neck with someone at the pictures... “Ok, JARVIS, put on _Wizard of Oz_ and dim the lights.”

Tony beamed at him. “Moved in less than ten minutes and already ordering the robot butler around. I'll make a rich man of you yet.” He leaned over and took a bite from the egg roll still in Steve's hand, and they spent most of the picture feeding each other bites from their chopsticks, then, later, from their fingers... and directly from one set of lips to the other. Steve was amazed to find that something could be both romantic and deeply erotic at the same time.

By the time Dorothy was back in Kansas, Steve was hard and aching, but he had so many plans before that became a pressing concern... “Tony?” Tony blinked lazily at him. “I, ah... I was hoping, maybe, you'd teach me how to suck you off-” Tony sat bolt upright at that. Oh, God, he had to get this part out fast, while he could. “AndthenIwantyouinsideme.” Tony froze, looking for all the world like his train of thought had jumped completely off the tracks. Was that a good sign or a really bad one? “I mean, we don't have to, if that's not your thing, I don't-”

Tony cut him off with a heated kiss, then pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips. “Every time I think you've just said or done the hottest thing I've ever encountered, you say something even hotter. _God_ yes I want to be inside you, I cannot _believe_ I am lucky enough to be your first everything, I promise I'll make it amazing...” He went back to kissing Steve, molding their bodies together. 

The kiss was good, so incredibly good, but Steve had _plans_ for the evening. He ran his hands up and down Tony's back and ass a few times, then grabbed him by the thighs and stood up, as smoothly as he could manage. Tony groaned in pleasure, and tangled his fingers in Steve's hair even as his legs wrapped around Steve's waist. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, but Steve loved to be able to do this. To pick up a full-grown man, and carry him across the apartment like a child (nothing like a child, Steve loved Tony's goatee and his very adult erection, oh, God, their jocks were rubbing together again, that would probably never stop being amazing), made him feel _so_ powerful. 

As they got into the bedroom, Steve broke the kiss just long enough to pull Tony's shirt over his head. When he found the bed with his shins, Steve shifted from kissing Tony's mouth to kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone... Almost drunk on the sense of power he was feeling, Steve _needed_ to mark Tony, to _claim_ him, and so he focused on leaving a major love bite in the space between the collarbone and the arc reactor. The helpless, breathless little moans of pleasure falling from Tony's lips, and the needy little hitches of his hips, made him feel so powerful that it bubbled up in a growl. Tony shivered all over.

Steve slithered down to his knees, letting Tony's ass rest on the bed, and pulled back enough to fumble Tony's fly open. Tony hitched up his hips just enough to get pants and boxer briefs down to his thighs, and Steve pulled them the rest of the way off. When Steve went to lean back in, Tony put a hand on his shoulder, and Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Wait, wait. Gotta breathe a little.” They were both panting, really. “Damn, that's hot. Also, couple suggestions, just to get you started. First off, don't be afraid to use your hand, too. You can grip the shaft-” Steve's hand rose automatically to wrap around Tony's jock. “-Ah, oh, yeah, like that, and then you can use your mouth mostly on the head, if you're more comfortable with...” Steve stroked up and down a bit, idly, exploring the feel of Tony's jock, so similar and yet so different to his own, and enjoying the look of sheer lust on Tony's face. “Gah, you are _not_ going to need much direction...”

Steve chuckled, loving this oh-so-subtle exercise of power, making _Tony Stark_ stumble over his words. “You said there were two things?”

Tony's jock twitched, and he swallowed, blinked, swallowed again. “Second... Oh, right. Teeth. Most, most people, they don't like... like teeth. Try not to-”

Steve figured that was enough to be working with. He leaned the rest of the way down and very precisely molded his lips to the place where the head and shaft met. Tony let out a whine of pure animal lust, his body falling back onto the bed and his hips trying to thrust up, but Steve's arm across his thigh pinned him in place, and Steve grinned on the inside. He flicked his tongue out to taste Tony, and found his slit already slick with pre-cum. And, oh, it was good! A little tangy, a little salty, he definitely wanted more. He licked at it a couple more times, and relished the whimpers from Tony.

Next he tried suckling on the whole head, and Tony's hand immediately tangled in his hair, seeming to need the grip. “Oh, fuck, Steve, that is so fucking good, how the hell are you this good at-” He lapped at the slit again, without releasing the suction, and Tony tried to buck up again. Steve settled his other hand on Tony's hip, holding him in place properly, and Tony shuddered and went totally limp. 

He figured he probably didn't need his hand any more, and let his fingers fall away one by one as he slid his lips down Tony's shaft. “Ooh, yeah, warm and wet, so good, God, your suction is amazing...” Tony's fingers tightened and loosened in his hair, and he purred as the head hit the back of his throat. Interesting. When he'd read about this, it seemed like this part was tough, but he supposed he didn't have much of a gag reflex anymore. “OH! Oh, my GOD, Steve, that's, holy-” Steve tried the purring thing again, and the hand in his hair changed from clenching to pulling. “No, wait, hold on,”

Steve let go with both hand and mouth, and sat back. “Tony? Everything alright?” Tony nodded, but he was panting hard, and his eyes were black as midnight. Steve moved up to lay beside him on the bed. “You sure?”

Tony grinned a little goofily. “OK, so. That is definitely it for Blow Jobs 101. You have passed the class. Top of the class, even. We'll do the 201 class later. Maybe tomorrow.” Steve blinked at him, a little confused. “That... That was _really_ good. If you kept on, I was gonna pop, and then we wouldn't have been able to do the next part. Which-” He pulled, without much leverage, at Steve's shirt. Steve grinned, kissed him on the 'hickey', and sat up to take the shirt off. And after that, well, it just made sense to take off his own slacks and boxer briefs. Tony ran an approving hand up his side. “Oh, Cap, you seriously have no idea how ridiculously much I am looking forward to the next part. Mmm, ok, to prep you, I think... Have you on your hands and knees? Just, anywhere on the bed, grab a pillow if you want.” He dug in the bedside table for the lubricant, while Steve arranged himself basically in the middle of the bed, facing the pillows.

Tony moved around behind him, and spent a moment just running his hands over Steve's cheeks, his back, the backs of his thighs... “God, you are so gorgeous... So many things I want to do with you...” He slid a finger down Steve's crack, and Steve shivered in delightful anticipation. “To you...” He kissed the middle of one cheek, then the other. “But right now...” There was the soft snickt of the lubricant opening, then a cool drop of it right where it was going to be needed most. Steve gasped, his hips and back automatically arching up toward Tony's hands. “Oh, and so responsive... I bet this part won't take long...”

With no more warning than that, one of Tony's long, delicate engineer's fingers (and callused, don't forget those - _ohhh_ \- calluses...) slid into him, all the way to the knuckle in one smooth move. Steve cried out, mostly in surprise, and tried very hard not to clench hard enough to break Tony's finger. He knew those muscles were fluttering anyway. “Ohh, fuck, Tony, that's amazing. God, I-” He panted, adjusting to this whole new world of sensation. “I, yes, go...” Fortunately, Tony interpreted that correctly, and started to move the finger, shallow thrusts in and out, twists back and forth... Steve became aware that he was making a low noise somewhere between a groan and a whine, and clenching his thighs rhythmically. “More, I, I'm good for more...”

Tony's finger spasmed slightly. “Oh, baby, you are good for everything.” He gave a pleased groan, and slid the second finger in without pulling out the first at all. Steve made a high, needy noise, feeling amazingly full up, and yet not nearly full enough. His hips writhed, not sure if he wanted to push toward or pull away or just find that one perfect spot... “Oh, fuck, oh, God, look at you, baby, look how bad you want it, God, that's so sexy...” He was really working those two fingers now, scissoring them open and shut, twisting them this way and that. He pulled them most of the way back, and when he slid in again, there was the soothing coolness of the lubricant. “Oh, and you took the third so damn easily...” That was three? It hardly felt any different. “God, I feel like I could cum through my fingertips, you feel so good. Fuck, Steve, baby, I can't- you need to...” Steve suddenly felt Tony's forehead pressed against one of his buttocks; Tony's breath was harsh pants across his most sensitive flesh. His fingers slid out slowly, almost reluctantly. “Ohh, I am fairly certain I am going to wish for your refractory period very, very soon.” Steve felt as much as heard Tony gulp a couple times. “OK, baby, I need you to roll over now.”

Steve obediently turned over, swinging his leg high over Tony's head, and settled back against the pillows, legs spread wide and jock leaking pre-cum all over his stomach. His voice was low, almost hoarse, barely recognizable to himself. “Like this?”

Tony's eyes raked up and down his body. “God, yes, can you just be just like that for, like, forever?” He bent down to kiss Steve's inner thighs and stomach, licking a little at the latter. Steve shuddered delightfully, and Tony visibly reined himself in. “Wait, no, slight change. Could you bring your knees up toward your shoulders?” Steve did so easily, and Tony just stared for a long moment, then caught Steve's eyes and grinned. “Yes, yes I am memorizing this moment, I don't ever want to forget. God, look at you...” He glanced down long enough to lube himself up and take himself in hand, then went back to gazing into Steve's eyes. “OK, baby, now just stay relaxed, this is gonna be good.” He moved in closer, and pressed his jock- OH! Steve could tell his eyes were as wide as they could go, but the rest of him went perfectly limp, totally accepting Tony's glorious invasion.

Steve's mouth gaped open, panting hard, for the long minute it took for Tony to slide oh-so-slowly all the way in, their eyes still locked. When he bottomed out, Tony held as still as he could, obviously waiting. Steve blinked a couple of times, trying to get his bearings. “Oh, wow, Tony, God, that's good. That- Yeah, there will definitely be more of-” His hips hitched up without his direction, and they both gasped. “Please, Tony, oh, fuck, please fuck me.” Tony's whole body twitched and jerked, and he let out a low moan. He pulled most of the way back, then slid slowly and gently in again, hands braced on the back of Steve's thighs. Steve whimpered. “Please, Tony, I can tell you want... please fuck my ass like you want to. Please, give me more, I can take more...”

Tony shuddered, but took another long, slow stroke, out and in. “Holy God, and _now_ you suddenly have a dirty mouth... Oh, Steve, baby, you are the most delicious, the most delectable...” He kissed raggedly at Steve's knee, and gave another long stroke; Steve hitched his hips up again, trying to draw Tony in deeper, or get him to move faster, or _something_ , and Tony gave a breathy little laugh. “I know, baby, I know, I want to go faster too, but _fuck_ , I'm so close to popping as it is, just from watching you and listening to you...” Another stroke, this one just a bit faster, a bit rougher. “God, next time, next time I will fuck you so hard...” 

Tony shifted one hand to wrap it around Steve's jock, and he abruptly realized how close he actually was to orgasm. “Oh, God, yes, please, I'm gonna, I need to, please...” Tony gave him a few quick strokes, thrusting in and out of him in the same rhythm, and Steve orgasmed so hard he actually thought he might be dying. His whole body spasmed and jerked, random nerves firing impulses in every direction, and he was distantly aware that he was clenching around Tony, and that Tony was crying out, and, OH, spurting into him, and oh, my GOD, that was another orgasm, hard on the heels of the previous. He completely lost consciousness for a second or two, then drifted for a timeless time in the space between conscious and unconscious. 

Once again, the first thing he was aware of was Tony's weight (and the arc reactor) on his chest. He brought up one shaky hand, to tangle in Tony's hair, and Tony made a contented noise. “Sooooo many plans for you, Cap, God.” He made as if to push himself up, then flopped bonelessly back down onto Steve's chest. “Well, if I survive you. I think you might be trying to kill me with your sexiness.” He nuzzled his cheek against Steve's pectoral. “Mmm, but, oh, what a way to go...”

Steve tried to sound stern. “You'd better not go dying on me just yet. I have so much more I want you to help me explore.” Tony made a noise that was half curious, half aroused, with an overlayer of sleepiness. Was it too early to bring up other things? Steve was feeling good enough to risk it. He got a good grip on Tony's hair, then gave a tug. Tony twitched, and made another noise with a lot less sleepiness, and Steve purred. Now was _definitely_ the time. “For instance, there's some other terms I found this week, that I think apply. I'm pretty damn sure I'm a Dom, and I think you might be a bit of a sub.”


	4. Found Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a "posting schedules" kind of person. Sorry. My muse just doesn't work like that. But rest assured that this story is roughly plotted out, and will probably be 10-12 chapters, AND I have a couple of sequels in the works. Plots and plans, children, plots and plans...

“I'm pretty damn sure I'm a Dom,” _ooh, that had a lot of potential..._ “And I think you might be a bit of a sub.” 

“What?” Tony sat up sharply, his heart pounding, hardly noticing that he had yanked his hair out of Steve's hand. “No, don't be ridiculous, I'm totally a Dom, I'm very glad you've learned these words, by the way, that's very exciting, but just ask anyone, I'm so a Dom, I don't know what you think-”

“Hush, pet.” Steve smiled as Tony obediently fell silent. “There you go. Now, I get you're partly a Dom, I'm not arguing that, but...” He suddenly latched his hands onto Tony's hips, making the bruises flare with bright, sweet pain, and Tony felt himself go limp... except where he was trying to get hard again. “You clearly like getting bruises. And, oh do I ever want to give you more of them...” Tony's breath hitched as he thought of it, of being dominated by _Captain America_ , and he tried to find words past the actinic spark of interest. Steve's pleased noise rumbled both their chests, and his hand went back to tangling in Tony's hair. “We don't have to-” He yawned. “Mmm, we probably _shouldn't_ talk about it tonight, but tomorr-oh.” He yawned again, and Tony echoed him. “Tomorrow we'll...” If he kept talking, Tony didn't know about it.

*A*A*

On Saturday, Tony woke up in dire need of a piss and a quick wash. Once he'd taken care of that, he remembered that there was cake in the next room, and strolled out to snag it. Well, tried to stroll. It came out more a combination of swagger and bounce. He shrugged and decided to go with it. It wasn't like he didn't have every reason on earth for both. When he got back into the bedroom, he had to pause for a moment and enjoy the view. Steve was awake but still sleepy and mussed, and the early morning sun made his skin glow like finest marble. Tony climbed up onto the bed, balancing the cake plate carefully, and leaned down to kiss Steve, first the mouth, then one pec.

Steve rumbled happily, and took the cake plate from him. “Cake for breakfast? You're so decadent.” He scooted up against the headboard. 

Tony shrugged carelessly and flopped next to him, thighs pressed against each other. “Well, it was supposed to be dessert last night, but we got a little distracted...” He sighed happily at the memory, and stuck two fingers in the cake, pulling off a chunk. He shoved the chunk in his mouth and talked around it. “Befide, we're phil felebrathing.”

Steve's eyes had been locked on Tony's fingers, and now he shook himself, and clearly tried and failed to give Tony a stern look. “Celebrating now includes eating with our hands and talking with our mouths full?” Tony nodded like a dork, and Steve broke out in a beaming grin. (No. 247 again, and Tony wanted to see that one on Steve's face _all_ the time...) “Okay.” He set the plate on his thighs and took a decent handful of cake, then crammed the whole thing in his mouth as if he'd never even heard of a sugar ration. “Fo, we gunna tawk?”

Tony swallowed the cake and leered at Steve. “I dunno, I was kind of thinking we could just fuck a lot. Well, and I'm pretty sure I want to lick some of this icing off your nipples at some point...”

Steve gave a happy shiver, and said nipples perked up. “Oh, yeah, lots of sex. But Tony, pet, there's so much else...” Tony squirmed. He had so many thoughts and emotions happening he felt like he might explode. Steve set the cake aside, licked his hand clean (oh, and Tony wanted to be the one doing that... from the way Steve was watching him, he knew, too, the bastard), then reached around, caught him by the hair at the back of his skull, (so like and so unlike Obie grabbing his shoulder...) and pulled him around so they were face to face, Tony straddling Steve's thighs. “Hey, we're not going to do anything you don't want to, but let's talk it out, ok? Just be honest with me.”

Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and gave a little nod, not even pretending to misunderstand. “Honest. Only for you, Cap.” He let out a little laugh, and opened his eyes. Steve was looking concerned. “Yeah, see. I'm not so good about...” He could do this... “One of the nice things about being a Dom, especially with, ah, short-term encounters, is that the sub tells you what they're looking for, and what their limits are, and you go. No need to open up back, you know? I, ah. I'm not great with talking about...” Steve gave him Smile No. 73, I Know You're Deflecting, I Can Wait You Out; Tony sighed and rested his forehead on Steve's shoulder. “The truth is, I don't trust anyone. A week ago, I would have said there would never be anyone in the world I trusted enough to let hurt me recreationally, let alone get me far enough into subspace to be really worth it.” He lifted his head, feeling unspeakably vulnerable, but needing to look in Steve's eyes. “But you! Part of me wants to take absolutely anything you want to give me, and I know that that's actually a really bad idea, I know how strong you are, I still want to _know_ how much you can hurt me, and that scares the Hell out of me. The idea of letting you in, letting you see...” He was breathing raggedly, and he took a moment to catch his breath. Steve's hand in his hair, clenching and unclenching like a heartbeat, was amazingly steadying, and he leaned into it just a little. “At the same time, I feel... God, I feel so safe with you, I don't think I've ever actually felt safe with anyone before, and that all by itself makes me feel angry and sad and freaked out and a bunch of other things, and I'm probably going to fight you every step of the way, I don't know how else to be, but I want it. I want us to explore that side of me together.” He closed his eyes, trembling, and tried to get his breathing under control... again.

Steve shifted to stroking his head. “Thank you for telling me that, pet. I can tell how hard it was for you.” He pulled Tony close, til their whole torsos were flush, and all but whispered in his ear. “I'm honored that you trust me so much. I promise I won't betray that.” The sincerity in his voice shot a thrill up and down Tony's spine that was like grabbing a 220 wire bare-handed, and Tony groaned and tried to press even closer to Steve. “So we'll start with some safety, hmm? I thought, for now, we'll use basic safewords, and then later if we want to change them, we can.” A new wave of emotion washed over him, mostly gratitude, relief, lo-fondness... He nodded. “Good, so. If you need to pause, or you need me to change something, you say 'yellow.' And if you need to stop, say 'red,' and we'll stop and talk it out, ok?” 

Tony shuddered, feeling tensions he hadn't even known he was carrying flow away from him. “Yellow and red. Good, yes.” And then, before he knew he was going to say it, “thank you, Cap.” His eyes were wet, and he didn't care.

The hand on his hair abruptly gripped hard and pulled him back sharply. “One other thing, _pet_. You will show me some damn respect, and call me Captain.”

The voice was like a whip-crack all by itself, nevermind the steely glint in those sapphire eyes, and it was like every millimeter of his skin woke up at the same moment. Every sense became sharper, and yet a little less important. “Yes, Captain. Thank you, Captain.” Oh, wow, was that his voice? So high and breathy? Well, it matched the inside of his head, anyway...

Captain smiled at him and went back to petting his hair. “Good pet. Now, next step, I think you called it 'what you're looking for, and what your limits are.' I think, worst first? What are you absolutely _not_ interested in?”

He didn't even have to think. “Breath play. Nothing where I'm drowning, or suffocating, or...” He pulled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his ribs. Steve sat up a bit more, hugging him gently, and he took a deep breath just to know he could. “Umm... Humiliation? I grew up being teased, bullied, it's very much not a turn-on.” He thought for a minute. “Nothing else is coming up now, but I, ah, I'm pretty sure I'll be thinking about this a lot, so there will probably be a list at some point. Oh, no, wait, one more definite no. No piss or shit.”

Steve recoiled bodily, almost comically, from that. “You had to _say_ that? There are people who are _turned on by shit?!_ ” His face was absolutely appalled.

Tony burst out laughing. “Oh, my god, your face! No, no, I'm sorry to say, I'm not joking, there really are, it's just, you're...” He laughed again, some of it relief that this was all going so frighteningly well. “Well, good, glad that's on both our 'no' lists. Moving on?”

Steve regathered his composure. “Yes, please.” He paused to run his hands up Tony's thighs, his stomach and chest, then down his arms. “God, you're so beautiful... Oh, right. Is there, um, anything in particular that you really _want_ to do? Something you're craving?” He blushed a little, and stared at Tony's shoulder. “Any fantasies you want to try?”

Tony let out a strangled groan, and his hips thrust up without his input. “Ohh... Just, being here, like this, kind of a fantasy, really.” He pulled himself together a little. “Um... I, you keep mentioning bruises. I want... Oh, God, I want you to give me bruises, I want to feel your hands on me even when you're not in the room, I-” Just the thought of it had him suddenly so turned on he could barely think. 

Captain ran his hands over Tony's body again, a little faster, a little rougher. “Oh, yes, pet, I will definitely do that. Do-” He faltered a little, then resumed. “Do you prefer any type of pain? Sharp or hard or-” He broke off, his hips lurching up raggedly, jostling Tony in the best way.

Tony tried desperately to pull two thoughts together. “I- Um, I... God, I don't know, I've never-” Was he blushing? He hadn't blushed since puberty hit! “No one's ever asked...”

Captain's voice was a complicated, thrilling blend of sweetly soothing and darkly possessive. “That's ok, pet, we can find out together.” One hand went back to Tony's hair, and it really was delightfully like being pet like a dog. The other hand scooped up some more cake, and brought it to Tony's lips. “Here, you're going to need the energy.” He opened his mouth, accepting the cake but focusing more on twining his tongue around the fingers. Captain groaned. “Oh, pet, so good...” He pulled his fingers back out, and from the look on his face, he was as turned on by this as Tony himself. He got one more bite, smaller this time, and offered it up again. Tony licked his lips, just to watch Captain lick his in response, then leaned in and wrapped his mouth around Captain's fingers. He gave a short, sharp suck, and grinned (as much as he could) when Captain's whole body twitched hard. “God, pet, you are so damn sexy... Oh, yeah, suck them nice and clean...”

Tony was making sure to take his time, do a thorough job, which is why it surprised him when Captain yanked his fingers away, grabbed Tony around the ribs, and flipped him over. When the wave of lust receded a little, he found he was face down across Captain's lap, his erection trapped against Captain's right thigh, Captain's erection pressing against his left flank and dripping onto his back. Part of him was panicking, feeling far too vulnerable, wanting to run. The rest of him was amazed, in awe of someone with enough strength to toss him around like that, gleeful that this was _his Captain_ doing this to him, stunned that he'd been chosen, that Stark the Fuckup was going to get to be Captain America's experimentation... He could feel a thousand thoughts crowding his head-

Captain's left hand grabbed him by both wrists at once, at the same moment that his right hand came down across both ass cheeks. “No more thinking.” His wrists were pulled out, until he had to balance on his elbows instead, and then Captain's palm stilled over the wrists, pinning them in place. Captain's other hand smoothed over his ass and thighs. Tony shivered, and relaxed as best he could. “There you go, that's better.” Captain gave him one light smack on each ass cheek, and Tony twitched, working to convince his reflexes not to jump up and fight back. “Oh, you are going to have so many gorgeous bruises... All this tender skin...” The next smacks were harder, but not by much, and he moaned as sensation flooded through him, actually starting to understand the appeal of this part. “Alright, pet. Now, first and foremost, this is to see how much you can take, and what sorts of things you like, so I may just keep going until you yellow. Are you ok with that?” 

He took a couple of breaths, surprised at how shuddery they were, and nodded. “I want it.” He realized as he said it that it was true, he really truly wanted it. “Oh, God I want it, please, Captain, I trust you, please, please make it hurt so good...” Tony shivered, consciously surrendering to this, and felt an answering shiver run through Captain's body, and then that strong hand raised, and came down, one-two, on his buttocks, hard enough to make him yelp. Captain massaged the sore spots, spreading tantalizing heat through Tony's body. And then he began in earnest.

Overall, Tony knew the blows were getting harder as they went. He was also vaguely aware that there were different types, cupped palm vs flat, sometimes the edge of the hand or the fist, but after the first few it all registered as _pain-pleasure-promise_ , and it was so, so good. He was squirming, his cock rubbing, and the noises he was making had only a passing acquaintance with any human language, but right now he couldn't care.

He lost track of time, of the whole world, really, his awareness narrowed down to the thud of Captain's hand on his ass, his thighs and back, and to the delicious, but not-quite-enough, friction of his cock against Captain's thigh. (If he could concentrate just right, he was pretty sure he could count the hairs on that section of thigh, his cock was that sensitive, but there was no way he was concentrating on _anything_ with his brain splintering this way.) He tried to jerk his hips up for better hits, or down to get more friction where he most needed it, but Captain was _managing_ him, shifting just enough that he could never get the angle he was half-consciously aiming for. 

Which is why it was such a surprise when his orgasm hit. It exploded from his belly like a Jericho, sweeping him under in a wave of white heat. He felt breathless, storm-tossed. He was also distantly aware of Captain's hips jerking raggedly upward, and warm drops hitting his back. And then he was aware of nothing at all for a long, blissful moment.

*A*A*

Steve sprawled out on his back, feeling utterly boneless. He was a little surprised at how much he'd liked spanking someone. (Be fair, Tony _was_ in dire need of a spanking on a regular basis.) He was _enormously_ surprised at how very much _Tony_ had liked it! Really, he hadn't realized that a person could go off, just from being spanked! He managed to lift his right hand just enough to skim the fingertips up Tony's left hamstring. “Wow, baby. Judging by your reaction, I'm willing to bet you liked that as much as I did, which is good, because I liked it an awful lot.” He rolled his head enough to catch Tony's eye and grin at him.

Tony's answering grin was wide, and his body possibly even more boneless, but he squirmed in pleasure anyway. After a moment, he rallied and wriggled over to the edge of the bed, dragging his jock across Steve's thighs. “Not only did I like it a whole Hell of a lot, but...” Steve heard the click of a lock disengaging, then the hiss of hydraulics. Curious, he flopped over onto his stomach to look. Tony waved an arm. “I have toys.” From under the bed was emerging a thing like a trundle bed, but instead of a mattress, there was a thin foam pad, and laid out on it was an assortment of whips, paddles, canes, handcuffs, and things Steve didn't have names for. He shot a raised eyebrow at Tony, who looked almost embarrassed. “I, ah, actually forgot about this earlier, you were just that distracting. But I'm kinda hoping you want to try out some of these on me sometime.” 

Steve was aware that the noise he made was beyond undignified and probably into embarrassing, but his jock was trying to stir again under him, so he didn't much care. “Oh, yeah.” He took another look at all of it, then bit his lip and glanced over at Tony. “I don't know if I mentioned it earlier, but I'm open to you using some of this stuff on me, too.”

Tony licked his lips, looking like he wanted to start that _now_. “Yeah, that'll be good. Um... You can take a lot, though. I might have to use the suit.”

Steve knew the noise he made this time should have been embarrassing, but he was picturing it, Iron Man using... was that a bull-whip? On him, and that was taking pretty much all of his attention. “Yeah.” His voice was definitely hoarse. “Yeah, I like that idea.” He shifted a bit, trying to ease the growing pressure on his jock, and his empty stomach made itself known. “Right now, though, I think we need lunch. Are there Chinese leftovers?” 

Tony bounced to his feet, then staggered a little as his fresh contusions made themselves known. “You always need food.” He tried to look stern, failed, and shrugged. “Lunch sounds excellent. And I made sure to get enough for leftovers, I knew we'd want them.” He walked gingerly toward the door.

Ten minutes later, Tony was laying a sheet over the couch (“So we can sit out here naked and not worry about the upholstery.”) while Steve set out the rest of the Chinese food. Tony went to flop down, then remembered his welts and sat quite a bit more carefully, which made Steve smug. He could tell he was smirking as he dug in to the beef with broccoli. “This is really nice. I'd like to do this all the time.”

Tony grinned at him, lo mein hanging from the corner of his mouth, then slurped it up. “Yeah, me too. Though if the rest of the team is around, we probably want to have pants on. That whole 'naked Thor' thing. Though if Nat wanted to...”

Steve smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “You even _think_ that loudly in her presence, she'll know, and frankly I'm not going to break it up if she tries to hurt you.”

Tony smirked. “I thought you were the only one allowed to hurt me.”

Steve felt his jock, which he had only just gotten under control, twitch at the very notion of it. “Well, now that you mention it...”

Tony shifted. “Gah, not right now, these things are serious business. You got a good arm on you, Rogers.” Steve knew his smirk was wider now, and he suspected it was pretty dirty too. “Right now we need something cute we don't have to pay too much attention to. JARVIS, give us some Cary Grant.”

JARVIS cued up _Arsenic and Old Lace_. “I believe Captain Rogers has expressed a fondness for this film, Sir.”

Steve sighed happily and fed some broccoli to Tony. “First picture you showed me when I moved in. Of course I'm fond of it.”

Tony's lips closing over the chopsticks was blatantly pornographic. “Seems appropriate for this weekend then. Now I'll have to come up with even more firsts for you to be fond of.” He was delighted that, even thought he blushed, Steve gave him a pornographic grin in response.

When they'd eaten enough to make an actual dent in the leftovers, Steve decided to put into effect the next part of his plan. He nudged Tony with a shoulder. “Hey, go grab the lube and come here.” Tony looked as if he might ask questions, but he disappeared into the bedroom and came back a moment later with the tube in hand. He stopped just out of Steve's reach, eyed him suspiciously, and opened his mouth. Steve grinned and patted his thighs. “Sit, sit.” Tony grinned back and started to sit facing him, but Steve shook his head and made a little twirling motion with one finger. “Facing the tv.”

Tony couldn't help leaning down to kiss him before turning and perching on his knees. It brought all his attention to his bruised ass, and he was suddenly kind of nervous, which he covered in his usual way. “I'm not so sure I'm buying this 'never had sex before this week' line you're pitching. You seem pretty- ah!” Steve had slid a hand between his thighs and Tony's ass, and now there was a finger pressing at a muscle that was tight but surprisingly accepting. “Mmph... Pretty sure of yourself. That's-” And the finger was pressing into him, probing, relaxing the muscle all over again... “That's some pretty advanced stuff you're doing...” He let himself sag, legs falling open, head and shoulders falling back against Steve's chest, pain transmuting to pleasure somehow. Steve made an approving noise and added another finger. “Ohhh... That's good...”

Steve was trying to go slow, to make sure Tony was ready, but his jock was aching for the tight heat his fingers were exploring, and he decided he didn't really have _that_ much reason to wait... “Alright, pet, now just stay nice and relaxed...” He dribbled some lube on his jock just to be sure, then got a good hold on Tony's hips and brought him up and back. When Tony realized what Steve was trying to do, he tensed, his head lifting and turning to look at Steve, but Steve smiled and kissed along his jaw, his neck, his shoulder... “Shh, shh, I got you, this is going to be good...” Tony uncoiled, and let his head fall back again. Steve purred and lowered Tony until the head of his jock breached the ring of muscle. Tony yelped, then shuddered, every muscle going completely limp. The rest of his slide down Steve's jock was more the inevitability of gravity than any action on either of their parts.

_God, this was good..._ Tony was already starting to float away a little. The burn of being stretched wide was the same high-proof mix of pleasure and pain and just plain _pressure_ as sitting on his bruises, and now Steve's hands were leaving his hips to roam over his thighs, his belly and chest... It would almost be soothing, except that every place where Steve's skin touched his felt like it had been lit on fire. He became aware that he was whimpering and writhing in Steve's lap, but Steve was making encouraging noises, so that was alright. (Encouraging! HA! Those were the sexiest fucking noises Tony had ever heard, little gasps and moans, stifled as if the only other option was to blow out Tony's eardrums. A thought darted through the fog, that he would be happy to be rendered deaf if the last thing he heard was Steve's full-throated sex noises. Definitely floating away now...)

It was all Steve could do to keep his hips still while Tony rutted against him. There was no way on Earth to keep his hands from exploring every accessible inch of olive-gold skin, every ridge of tendon and dip of muscle. His eyes were half-closed, barely important, but his ears were drinking in every one of Tony's moans, his gasps and cries. He was so caught up in all of that, that his orgasm was startling, almost a shock, thundering through him like an express train. His head dropped, the bridge of his nose resting on the back of Tony's shoulder, as he tried to catch his breath.

“Oh, yes, Captain, God that's good, ohh, fuck my ass so good, fill me up...” He brought both hands up and back, tangling them in Steve's hair, knowing full well that to touch himself right now, really just about anywhere, would tip him over the edge, and that neither of them was ready for that. Steve took the opportunity to run his fingertips up the inside of Tony's arms, pits to wrists and back down, light and slow like he had all day. (In fairness, he really did, kind of.) Tony shuddered, arched his back, started to squirm again. 

Steve took his cue, twitching his hips up and down in tiny little movements that still managed to feel like he was drilling deep into Tony's body. He went back to running his hands all over Tony's skin, trying his best to make mental notes on what made him gasp or moan or clench so delightfully. It was tough, though, to concentrate, with the way Tony was whimpering and pleading, broken fragments of “fuck, yes” and “your cock's so good”, and Steve bit Tony's shoulder, just to hold off his next orgasm a little longer.

Of course, being bitten just made Tony make a keen of pure pleasure, almost a shriek of surprise, and even if Steve hadn't been close, he was pretty sure that noise would have driven him to orgasm anyway. His hips snapped up, lifting them both off the sofa, as his world whited out. When he came back to himself a little, he realized he was licking the swiftly-forming tooth-shaped hickey in front of him. He shifted to nuzzling the back of Tony's head, inhaling the scent of shampoo and sweat and _Tony_ until his hips started to move on their own.

He took a deep breath, then another, letting his hips move as they would, but otherwise trying to calm himself down a little, trying to let himself build up to the next one a little slower. He deliberately slowed everything down, letting his hands drift, drinking in all of Tony's little noises and needy words. “You're so beautiful like this, pet, dripping with sweat and begging to cum... God, I could keep you like this all night and you'd beg for tomorrow, too. Mmm...” He pinched and pulled Tony's nipples, moaning at the way that made Tony's inner muscles clench _hard_ around him. Oh, and he could _feel_ all that spunk in there with him, making the whole situation slicker and hotter and... “Just gonna fill you up... Make you ride my jock all night, til you're so full of my cum you can't even move...” God, the _thought_ of it, Tony sprawled out, too spent to move, Steve's cum oozing out of his overused hole... He couldn't hold off any longer. He wrapped one arm around Tony's waist and the other hand around his jock, dropped his head back, and _howled_ with release.

There was nothing in Tony's world anymore but Steve's voice, the sweet fire Steve's hands had made of every inch of his skin (except those few inches that craved it the most), and the deliciously obscene feeling of Steve's cum filling him up and dripping ( _dripping!!_ ) out of him. He knew his breath was harsh, his throat raw, but that was a concern so distant as to be practically nonexistent. Somewhere far away, Cary Grant was yelling about not being a Brewster, but right here, Steve's hand was _finally_ wrapping around his cock, kindling his whole body like a _sun_ exploding, and he felt as though he was turned inside out and washed perfectly clean. 

When he came back to himself, the credits were just ending. He rolled his neck to kiss sloppily at Steve's jaw. “You know, I think I might be pretty fond of this movie too...”

*A*A*

They spent a little while cleaning up, drinking ridiculous amounts of water, and generally getting back to themselves, then, as _North by Northwest_ started in the background, Steve settled Tony onto the couch and knelt between his legs, hands finding their natural place on Tony's hips. “So I'm pretty sure you promised me another class in 'blow jobs'. I figured now was a good time.” Before Tony could put together a sentence, Steve was wrapping his lips around Tony's mostly-soft cock. To his utter surprise, Tony felt it twitch, stir, and start to fill.

He tangled one hand lightly in Steve's hair. “Well, you know, I'm pretty much never going to say no to a blow job...” Steve suckled on it, and Tony groaned. “God... That, that is so hot, you have no idea...” His cock was filling fast, which shocked the hell out of him. “Seriously, look at what you're doing to me.”

Steve licked delicately at the underside of Tony's jock, enjoying the way his hips lurched upward. “Oh, I've only just begun.” He swirled his tongue around the seam between head and (now fully-hard) shaft, then dipped it into the spot from which pre-cum was starting to leak. Tony's hand clenched in his hair, and he whimpered. Steve closed his lips and slid all the way down Tony's shaft and back up. When he whimpered louder, Steve tried that a couple more times.

Tony closed his eyes and focused on just breathing. He had to remind himself that if his body tried to orgasm again this quickly, it was probably going to _hurt_. Of course, then he lurched up again, and lurched back down onto his freshly-reawakened bruises, yelped, and jolted up once more, and all of that hurt plenty. Steve, the bastard, moved with him easily, and chuckled against his cock, which just felt unreasonably good, and Tony's mind was starting to fuzz out a little around the edges. 

Steve felt it as Tony's breathing changed, shorter, harsher, almost panting; he pulled his mouth off Tony's jock entirely, shifting to lick at his balls. Tony whined and squirmed, but his breathing also started to calm. Steve made a little rumble of happiness and spent some time exploring Tony's balls with his mouth, running his tongue and his lips along them, sucking a little on the skin of them... When Tony was back to long, ragged breaths, Steve once again engulfed his jock in his mouth, and sucked gently. 

Tony's hips lurched upward as he keened, a noise nearly high enough to shatter glass, then gulped air. “OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod. That's- You're- How are you this good-?” He felt like he could hardly think, let alone form words, but he forced himself to drop back down. 

Inwardly grinning, Steve closed his teeth gently around the base of Tony's jock, and Tony went perfectly, tremblingly still. Steve, ever so slowly and just hard enough for Tony to really feel it, dragged his teeth up the length of Tony's shaft, his lips gliding along in their wake. Tony was making high, needy little noises, all of his muscles clenching and flexing without actually moving. Steve's teeth opened a little for the head of Tony's jock, then closed sharply a millimeter past it. Tony gasped and jumped, looking down at Steve with wide, wild eyes. Steve suspected that the grin he flashed out was positively evil, but he was having _so much fun_... He fastened his mouth on the tender flesh of Tony's inner thigh, up high near his balls, and started sucking on it. Tony's fingers dug into his scalp, pulling him closer, and he bit, hard enough to show he meant it. 

Tony was awash in a sea of sensation. His body was telling him that there were teeth everywhere, hands and bruises and sweet fire coating every nerve. His brain was floating, somewhere beyond his skull, in a cloud of _hot-sexy-safe-dangerous_ that was better than any drug he'd ever had. He barely recognized the sounds coming out of his mouth, but he couldn't manage to care. He couldn't even care about the fact that his orgasm was building, which seemed like it should be weird, but everything was _just so good_...

Steve could feel Tony's body tensing, beginning to arch up needfully, and he shifted back to his jock, licking it in the same rhythm as Tony's panting breath. When that got him calmed down to 'squirming' again, Steve moved to lick at his thighs, his stomach, the jut of his hips...

Oh, God, he was so wrong. He cared desperately about having an orgasm, but it wasn't- he couldn't- he needed words... words... “Please, oh, God, please Captain, please, I need to, please will you...”

Steve grinned fiercely, pleasure and love and arousal and joy all swirling together, sparking heat in his gut. He kissed the very tip of Tony's jock. “Good boy, pet.” And then he swallowed it down to the root, as hot and wet as he could make it, and sucked hard. He couldn't help the growl that arose in his throat, but Tony seemed to approve. He cried out at the top of his voice and spurted, hard and hot, into Steve's mouth. Steve pulled back just enough that he could taste it properly, and eagerly swallowed everything Tony gave him.

The sweet fire burning along Tony's skin ignited in his belly, in his bones, and burst through him like a repulsor firing. The world went away, shot out through his cock and down Steve's throat, leaving nothing but colorless light and silent sound in its place. 

He came back to himself lying sideways on the couch, Steve still kneeling on the floor, but now with his cheek on Tony's hip, as another black and white movie was starting. “Ug, JARVIS, I cannot deal with any more of this. I need explosions and hokum. Give me _Return of the Jedi_.” As the narration crawl started, he tangled his fingers in Steve's hair and tugged him closer. “I feel like I was supposed to be giving you instruction there, but for the life of me I can't figure out what.” As soon as Steve was close enough, Tony kissed him deeply, savoring the taste of himself in Steve's mouth. “Seriously. Wow.”

Steve grinned at him. “I dunno. I think I might need lots and lots of practice, to be sure I'm getting it right...”

Tony rolled his eyes, but he grinned back. “I think a course of private study could be arranged. But not when there are Jedi. Get up here.” Tony lifted his head up just enough that Steve could sit, and then Tony put his head on Steve's thigh, resolutely facing away from the massive hard-on he didn't have the energy to do anything about. Steve started running his hand through Tony's hair, and it was incredibly soothing, especially combined with a well-loved movie and a well-loved body. (He was massively sore, but in a _good_ way. Like he was there for Steve's pleasure, to be stretched wide and fucked silly whenever Steve wanted, which was a way hotter thought than he would have expected.) He dozed, mumbling most of the lines with the characters but not _really_ paying that much attention.

The Ewoks' creepy little song roused him just enough to push himself to sitting up. He let Steve lead him to the bathroom so they could brush their teeth, and then to bed. He curled up on his side, Steve wrapping around his back and tucking them in, and then he surrendered fully to sleep.

*A*A*

Steve slept for an unexpectedly long time on Sunday morning, and only woke up when the smell of bacon and sausage hit his nose. He shifted, surprised that Tony was 1) awake before him, and 2) actually cooking, but then he realized Tony was once again sprawled across him, one bony hip digging into his ribs and the arc reactor practically in his armpit. He chuckled and nudged him. “Hey, Tony, ummm... baby? I think someone came home early...”

Tony groaned a little as he stirred, then lifted his head, sniffed and grinned. “Nope! We got a delivery!” He scrambled off Steve, off the bed, and onto his feet, then paused. “Ooh, sore! That's excellent.” He twisted and stretched, both of them well aware Steve was watching, then wandered in the buff through the living room. Curious, Steve followed him. Tony stopped at the little side table next to the elevator, which Steve had seen cluttered with electronic parts, glasses and mugs, or paperwork Tony was avoiding, but which today held an insulated bag from which the tempting smells were wafting. Tony opened the bag and breathed deep. “Oh, man, I haven't had Chez Chic in months... Oh, you're going to like this...” He snagged both handles of the bag in one hand, turned back around, and grabbed Steve's hand in his other. 

Steve let himself be led back to the bedroom, feeling bemused and a little unmoored. “You had food delivered? Up here? When did you even have the time?”

Tony flopped onto the bed, half-upright against the headboard, and started pulling things out of the bag, lining them up on the duvet in front of him; it was mostly the cheap aluminium containers that reminded Steve of nothing so much as pie tins. Steve sat warily, on the other side of the containers, watching him. Tony shrugged. “Well, technically it gets delivered downstairs, and one of the staff brings it up and leaves it on that table.” He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Of course, I haven't even ordered from them in months-” he raised an eyebrow “-including this weekend. JARVIS, did you do this?”

There was a friendly chuckle from overhead. “I thought that neither you nor Captain Rogers would want to take the time to cook this... afternoon, so I did take the liberty. I hope Sir is not put out?”

Tony waved a hand carelessly. “No, no, this is why I built a proper AI, so you could take this sort of initiative. I'm very pleased.” He started opening containers.

But Steve was distracted. “Did... Did he say 'afternoon'?” He took a better look out the window, and realized it really _was_ noon or just after. He shook his head. “Wow, this is some different way to live. Sleeping til noon, eating take out all the time...” Which of course redirected his attention to the food. And there was a lot of it. One container of just bacon, another of just sausage, _two_ with one waffle each (thick, fluffy things, redolent with spices, that seemed amazingly decadent), one with French toast, one of eggs... 

Tony looked up, a little embarrassed, from where he was opening a soup container full of maple syrup. “This was a thing Pepper and I did, most Sundays. I hope that doesn't make it weird.” He couldn't quite meet Steve's eyes.

And there seemed to be even more in the bag. Steve didn't mind, but he perversely wanted Tony to stew a little, so he peered into the bag and drew out another soup tub, this one full of fruit. (There were other things in there, but habit of a lifetime had him pretty focused.) He popped open the lid, plucked out a chunk of pineapple ( _pineapple!_ anytime you wanted it!) and popped it in his mouth. “Nah, it's actually pretty amazing. We could even make it a Sunday thing for us, if you want.” He glanced up and over at the camera in the corner. “Thanks for ordering for us, JARVIS.”

Well, that did it; Tony perked right back up. “I would love us to have a Sunday brunch-in-bed tradition. Pepper made me put on pajamas and sit in a chair.” He picked up a piece of bacon, dipped it in the maple syrup, and munched it down. “Hey, so... You... You think of JARVIS as a person, huh?”

Steve gave him a raised eyebrow as he finished chewing a chunk of melon. “Of course I do. Isn't he?”

Tony gave a shrug that looked like it was supposed to be casually dismissive and failing. “ _I_ think so. Most other people treat him like a glorified smartphone. I-” He took a too-big bite of waffle and then tried to talk around it. “I's onna the thin's I like 'bout you.” He swallowed too fast and had to cough a couple times, then looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye. “So then you know that he's kind of been watching us this whole time...”

“Well.” Steve knew it sounded awful prim, but he was only just now _thinking_ about it. “I. It's... It's not like either of us have a problem with nudity. And I assume if we were doing things JARVIS didn't want to know about, he wouldn't actually have to pay attention to us. I just... I... Should it be weird?” Flustered, he reached for the food, and ended up taking a big bite of the waffle. Oh, that was awful good...

“God, how are you so perfect?” Tony gave him a sticky kiss, then fed him maple-dipped bacon, and if Steve licked his fingers a little too, well, nobody really minded that...

They ate quietly, still slowly waking up, feeding each other random bits of sinfully delicious food, and Steve was both utterly surprised and utterly unsurprised at how comfortable, how perfect everything was. He knew he was grinning like a sap, but then again so was Tony.

When they had eaten everything in sight, Tony cleaned the bed by the simple expedient of dumping all the trash in the insulated bag, and tossing the bag in the direction of the door, then rolled onto his stomach and reached over the side of the bed to open The Drawer. He glanced over his shoulder. “So, I was thinking, easiest way to do this, give you a selection, right?” Steve was a little surprised at the abruptness, until he realized Tony had probably been thinking about this the whole time they ate. Tony's hand dipped down, then brought something up to lay beside him on the mattress, over and over. Steve automatically identified them (or tried to) as they came up: a cane, a paddle, something he thought might be a riding crop, a short whip, a thing like like the whip but with many tails...

But the last thing! He eyed Tony doubtfully as they both sat up. “That's a carpet beater. You want me to beat you like a carpet?” 

Tony laughed and climbed into his lap. “Well, I am dirty. Utterly filthy, even.” He demonstrated with a kiss that should have set the sheets on fire.

When the kiss broke, Steve grinned at him. “Hmm, no, I think anything I do is just going to make you dirtier. But if you think you might enjoy it, I am in fact willing to beat you like a carpet.”

Tony fluttered his eyelashes. “Aww, Cap, you say the sweetest things...” Steve laughed and kissed him again. 

This time Steve broke the kiss, and enjoyed the way Tony's lips chased after his just a little. “Alright, pet, if you want to do this, get up on your hands and knees, head toward the headboard, and close your eyes.” Tony scrambled to obey, and Steve took a moment to enjoy the view, his pet eager and waiting, not-quite-tense but maybe trembling a little, breathing already a little ragged; he ran his hand over the fading bruises from yesterday, and thought about how he was going to do this. “OK, right. I'm just going to do a few test smacks with each one, and then, if you don't like it, you tell me 'no, thank you,' if you do like it, you say 'yes please,' and if you're not sure, you can say 'more,' 'harder,' or 'softer.' Got it?”

Tony nodded, a little vaguely. “Yes, please, no, thank you, more, harder, softer.” His hips jerked a little, one way then another, his jock already full and heavy. “I'm ready, please, Captain...”

“Oh, pet, I do like it when you beg.” He decided to alternate sensations, and to start with the one that seemed the most intimidating, so he picked up the carpet beater and positioned himself for a good swing. He gave two smacks on each ass cheek very lightly, one-two, one-two, aiming to spread them out a bit, then a second set with a bit more force, and a third set hard enough that Tony yelped and jumped. Then he set the implement down and rested his left hand on the small of Tony's back.

It took a moment or two for Tony to get his breathing under control, and another before he shook his head, sharply, as if trying to clear his ears. “Mm, yeah. No, thank you.” His hips gave an unhappy little twitch, and Steve used his right hand to stroke up and down Tony's thighs and ass, soothing him like a nervous animal. When he relaxed, just that little bit, Steve took his hands away and picked up the paddle. He did the same set of smacks, one-two, one-two, one at medium strength, one a little harder, and one with real intent. By the time he started the third set, Tony was gasping and whimpering, and before he'd finished, he was already nodding. “Yes, please, more, harder, please, Captain!”

Steve was enjoying himself more than he'd expected. Tony moaning and writhing, making those desperate, scorchingly hot noises, was far better than he'd imagined, all of his senses _full_ of Tony's pleasure and need. Set four with the paddle was just as hard as set three, and five was harder than that. Six was as hard as Steve felt he could safely make them, and still at the end Tony was begging brokenly. “Please, more, yes, harder, please...”

He clucked his tongue, putting a hand back on Tony's back. “Now, now, pet, don't get ahead of yourself. We still have a lot of experimentation to do before we get back to that.” Tony gave a full-body shiver as he finished speaking, and all the tension drained back out of him. He took a couple of deep breaths, and Steve moved his hand away and reached for the whip. He snapped it out to the side a couple of times, to get the feel of it, then repositioned himself and struck both of Tony's ass cheeks at once, hard enough to sting but not hurt. Tony yelped and panted, and Steve struck again, just below the previous one, then twice more, on the backs of his thighs. He paused for a moment, then did the same set of four again, slightly offset from the previous ones and a little harder. 

Tony was already shaking his head as Steve started the last set, again a little offset from the others and a little harder, and as soon as the first one landed, he yelped aloud. “No, thank you, no thank you!”

Steve stopped immediately, tossing the whip off the side of the bed, and moved in close, left hand on the small of Tony's back, right hand stroking softly across his welts. “It's ok, pet, it's gone, thank you for telling me, shh, shh, you're ok...” Tony took a deep, if shaky, breath, and let out his tension with a shiver. “There you go, good pet, just relax...” He kept soothing until Tony lifted his head and started to turn toward him, then pulled back. 

Well, if the single-tail whip wasn't a good idea, this multi-tailed one might not be either, but better to know that sooner... He swung it, and was surprised to see how much the tails spread out across both buttocks. Tony reacted much better to it, too, grunting in interest and rocking into it a little. Steve upped the intensity a little for the next three, then again for the next set-of-four. Deciding to push it, he really put his arm into the last set. Then he lowered his arm and put the other hand on Tony's back.

Tony wriggled a little, as if testing something, then hmmed. “More?” Steve nodded to himself and removed his hand. Set four was not quite as hard as set three, but was aimed at his thighs instead. Tony jumped and sucked in air with those, but didn't say anything, so Steve kept going, sets five and six continuous and scattered across Tony's back and sides. By the end, Tony was panting, but with lust, and his jock was dripping onto the bed. He nodded raggedly. “Yes, please. That. Please, yes.”

Steve chuckled, and was amused to hear how... evil it sounded. His voice was more growl than speech. “ _Such_ a good boy. Such a sexy pet.” He rested his hand on the small of Tony's back, but it had other ideas, and traced along some of the myriad of red marks and welts beginning to raise. Tony whimpered and arched into his touch, and Steve brought his right hand into play as well, exploring which areas were tender, which were blazing with heat from within. It took a real effort of will to cut all that short, to move on to the next step of the experiment.

He wasn't entirely sure what to do with the riding crop, (and he wanted to keep changing things up, keep Tony guessing) so he spent his dozen strokes playing around, hitting with the length of it, or just the end, hard here, soft there... At the end, he didn't have much of a better feel for it than when he started, and Tony seemed to feel about the same. (Honestly, how could he _shrug_ while on his hands and knees?) “Meh, no thank you.”

A cane, though, Steve knew exactly what to do with; he had, after all, gone to Catholic school during the Depression. He shifted around to get the proper range, and laid in to Tony. Six stripes up, from the back of the knees to the curve of the ass, then six back down again, in perfect metronomic rhythm, all juuuust a little harder than he thought Tony could comfortably take. On strike eight, Tony started moaning aloud, and on stroke ten he yelled. “Yes, please, more, God, yes, more, please, Captain, yes...” 

Steve barely managed to finish the last two strokes before the orgasm overtook him, his yell as much shock as pleasure, his cum spurting across Tony's back. He caught himself with a hand to Tony's back, and just stayed like that, panting, for a long moment. Then he smoothed his hand up and down Tony's spine. “Oh, _pet_. The things you do to me...” He leaned in closer, dropping kisses here and there on the wounds he'd just made. “The things I want to do to you...”

Which started, right now, with using Tony's two favorites on him, without giving him a chance to think or anticipate. He took up the cane in his right hand, and the paddle in his left, and took a stance that gave him good reach with both. Then he began a proper assault, with as little predictability as he could manage. First one weapon then the other, on Tony's back, then his thighs, sometimes in perfect alternation, sometimes a single hit with one, then a barrage with the other... For a few strokes, he entertained himself by making cross-hatches with the cane on Tony's buttocks...

And he opened his mouth, letting a lifetime's worth of dirty talk fall free, letting forth the predator that lived under his skin. “Oh, yes, pet, God, you sound so beautiful. Oh, you love this, don't you, you're so eager for it, just look at you writhing, look at how red your ass is getting for me, oh, you're going to have the most beautiful bruises, and I'm going to fuck you later, just dig my thumbs into these bruises til you cry out just like you are now, God, look how much you can take, I had no idea...” His jock was hard again, positively _drooling_ pre-cum, but he virtually ignored it, all his attention on Tony and his gorgeous noises and his desperate hip thrusts, the gold of his skin turning to ruby with each strike.

Tony's orgasm ripped through him like the Hulk on a rampage, flinging his limbs every which way. He yowled with it, a nearly inhuman sound, and his eyes flew open in shock and pleasure. He landed on his stomach, his limbs twitching, again and again, in aftershock. He gulped air, blinking furiously as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Steve was breathless with the perfection of the moment. He pushed aside all the implements on the bed and laid down on his side next to Tony, pressing his front to Tony's side and covering everywhere he could reach with kisses. “Oh, baby, oh, pet, so gorgeous, so perfect, my perfect pet, my beautiful baby...” He kept that up until Tony's blinking slowed, until he got his breathing under control and opened his mouth to speak. _Then_ , Steve pulled away, sitting back on his heels and giving Tony a stern look. “Don't think I'm done with you yet, pet. Back on your hands and knees.” Tony complied, but he kept casting wary glances over. 

Steve smiled reassuringly and knee-walked around to position himself between Tony's calves. Tony's breath left him in a half a laugh, and he let his head hang down. Steve stroked soothing hands up and down his sides. “Good pet, there you go.” Without warning, he took firm hold of both buttocks, wringing a gasp out of Tony, and spread them a bit. He slid his right thumb into Tony's sphincter, garnering a groan, and he growled in response. “Oh, baby, you are so ready for me. That's good, I'm ready for you, too.” He pulled his thumb out and used that hand to grasp his jock and guide it in, trusting to his own pre-cum to be enough lube. Tony was making broken, needy little noises, and twitching his muscles randomly, as if he wanted to react more but didn't dare. Steve just kept pushing in until his hips and thighs were pressing against the bright heat of Tony's bruises. Then he leaned over Tony's back. “Alright, pet. Now I'm going to fuck you until I'm done with you. You can cum if you want, but I'm not going to stop for you.” 

Tony let out a long, low noise somewhere between a moan and a whine, and nodded shakily. “Yes, Captain. Thank you, Captain, please yes, please-”

Steve straightened up, got a grip on Tony's hips, slid his jock most of the way out, and slammed it back in again just as roughly as he wanted to. He grunted, and Tony groaned. He did it again, a slow slide out and a harsh thrust back in, and Tony arched up and back, into him, every line of his body begging. Steve lost his mind a little at this point, his body taking over, driving deep into the willing heat that surrounded him, pounding in with frantic need. The orgasm that crashed over him broke his rhythm, but only for a moment, before lust drove him onward, inward, as if he could climb entirely inside Tony. 

They were both grunting and groaning and making little half sentences, all “pound my ass” and “so fucking tight”, and every noise drove Steve to new heights of arousal, new depths of desperation. He shifted his grip to Tony's shoulders, trying to pull him closer, then dragged his nails down his back. Tony yowled and clenched around him, thrusting back at him with equal need. That was enough to trigger his next orgasm, his thrusts turned to twitches and jerks for a minute or two. Now Tony's hole was so well lubricated that Steve started to worry he might slip out, and so he regained his grip on Tony's hips, which just gave him the leverage to shift their position around a little...

Tony made that same high, sweet sound he'd made the first night, the one that meant Steve had hit just the right spot, and so Steve kept that angle, sliding so easily in and out of him, thrusting a little slower, just to draw it out, drinking in those cries, but in only a few strokes, the sound spiraled up into a shriek as every muscle in Tony's body clenched with his orgasm. True to his word, Steve kept going (as much as he could) through it, and rode Tony down as he collapsed limply onto the mattress. Steve groaned, placed his hands on the mattress on either side of Tony's ribs, and kept pounding into him. He was starting to lose track of the world around him, nothing in his consciousness but the lust inside him and the body below him, the sweet pull and thrust of his jock...

He felt it building, one last, glorious moment, but his artwork was not quite complete. He curled down to murmur into Tony's ear. “ _My_ pet. You're mine, don't you ever forget it.” He bit, hard, into the meat of Tony's shoulder, and let the clenching of Tony's muscles blast him over the edge. 

He came back to himself not only draped over Tony, but still balls-deep in him. He groaned and rolled away, and Tony sucked in a deep breath and let it out in an answering groan. Steve tried half-heartedly to sit up, but when he found he couldn't, he was perfectly happy to just lie there and breathe. (And feel the rise and fall of Tony's ribs under his arm.) Eventually, though, he realized how sticky they both were, and levered himself up and out of the bed, to go in the bathroom and get a washcloth. 

Steve cleaned himself up a bit, then took the warm washcloth back to the bed, knelt next to Tony, and slowly, gently, carefully, wiped up all the various bodily fluids he was coated in. He even rolled him onto his side for a moment, to wipe up the streaks on his front. Tony made a few happy mumbles, but was completely limp and pliant. Steve felt a warm glow in his chest that he'd gotten Tony to this state. 

He finished cleaning up, tossed the washcloth into the hamper, and sat down tailor-style on the bed. Tony was still sprawled on his front, his back from shoulder to knee an abstract painting of red welts and bruises in yellow-green and blue-purple. What Steve could see of his face was stretched out in a blissful grin, his visible eye dazed and unfocused. (Steve's fingers itched for pencils or paints.) Tony gave a happy sigh. “You are going to kill me. I'm serious, I have a heart condition here, you know. _Fuck_ , that was amazing!” He lifted one hand, waving it about in a lethargic imitation of his usual gesticulation. “God, I think I've had more orgasms this weekend than I'd had in any previous _month_ of my life...” He lifted his head just enough to look at Steve, then turned it away shyly. “Though, um, yesterday? When we were talking about fantasies? I feel I should confess, I've been jerking off to images of you since I was about 15. Um, and to seriously kinky thoughts involving you since about 19. Though they were pretty much only me leaving bruises on you. This.... This is so fucking much better than any of that.”

Steve knew he had a blissful grin on too. “I should not find that endearing. I know it's the sort of thing people normally find creepy, but mostly I'm just smug that the reality is better than _your_ imagination. Does that make me a bad person?”

The answering chuckle was low, rough, and so beautiful Steve's heart ached. “Captain America is asking Iron Man if something makes him a bad person. I think I might be in an alternate dimension. That's fine, this one's better anyway.” Tony squirmed around until he could press his shoulder to Steve's knee and rest his head on Steve's thigh. He met Steve's eyes and smiled goofily. “This is the best dimension.” They leaned in and shared a long, soft kiss. “I wanna stay here forever.”

Which, of course, is when Clint and Nat got home, whooping and cheering loud enough to shake the Tower.


	5. Dreams and Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! I've finished something, so you get a Christmas present, my lovelies!  
> Ye Gods, this chapter has been a bastard... Actually, this is only half the chapter, I was having so much trouble, and the damn thing was getting so long, I broke it in two. The other/next part should be up soon, it's mostly written already, thank you for your patience with my easily-distracted muse.   
> Y'all should also know that I originally planned to be posting the sequel today (Musie hasn't been as cooperative as I'd like), but there are at least two more chapters to this before I can even talk about the sequel, and probably four or five in total before this part of the story is done. (The Christmas story was meant to be a one-shot, but it maaaay turn into a chaptered. I'm... not good at short stories.) And there is definitely a third part, after the Christmas story, which involved plans and endgames and fun stuff like that. So stick around, it's gonna be a wild ride!

The elevator dinged open on the communal floor, and Clint bounced out. “Oh, my God, that was so much fun! We totally have to do the next one, too, we could get the team to do it, I don't know if I want us all to be one crew, or split up and see what everyone comes up with!” He leaned into the stairwell and up. “Hey, lovebirds! Put on some pants and come see what we made this weekend!”

Steve couldn't help the blush that lit up his cheeks. It's not like he _minded_ the team knowing about them, or even that he minded the team _knowing_ about them, and the nakedness, and... But they were being so _casual_ about knowing! Adapt, Rogers! Adapt and survive... “They made something? I thought they were going to the pictures?”

Tony managed a shrug. (Honestly. Lying down? He'd made an _art form_ of shrugging...) “Guess we'll have to go see. Mmm.. Don't want pants...” He gestured toward the closet. “Rightmost door. Bathrobes. Grab us some?”

Steve levered himself reluctantly to his feet and went to open the proper door. Hanging there were at least half a dozen bathrobes, all of them plush and fluffy, like the waffles this morning had been. He pawed through them til he found the biggest one, a soothing navy blue, and wrapped it around himself, then grabbed one the same red as Iron Man's armor and brought it over to drop on Tony's back. Tony wriggled just enough to get his arms into the sleeves, but otherwise didn't move.

Steve smiled fondly down at him. “Do you need me to carry you downstairs?”

Tony rolled over just enough to look at him. “Need? Maybe, maybe not. Want? Like you wouldn't believe!” He grinned ingratiatingly.

Steve couldn't help laughing. “What I cannot believe is how spoiled you are!” He bent, getting one hand under Tony's knees and the other around his shoulders. Tony sighed happily and draped his arms around Steve's neck. (Steve took a moment to ensure that Tony's robe was tucked properly around him. Wouldn't do to _actually_ give the team an eyefull.) He headed through Tony's - _their!_ \- living room, and downstairs to the team living room, where Clint was bouncing on the big sofa like a five year old, and Nat was plugging a flash drive into the port by the giant view screen.

Clint looked over and fluttered his eyelashes at them. “Aww, look how cozy you two are! Look at- damn, how many hickeys do you _have_ , Tony?” Tony lifted his head and gave a wicked grin, but before he could respond, Clint waved both hands. “No, no, I do not want a single solitary detail. Besides, check this out!” He flopped down on the sofa. Nat went and sat next to him, and Steve sat in the armchair closer to them, settling Tony on his lap sideways. (Being very careful of all his new injuries, of course.)

And then the four of them watched a very funny skit involving two college kids, Clint as a character named Tiny Terrible Timmy, and Nat wielding an oversized, inflatable frying pan called The Skillet of Skull-crushing. Afterward, Clint tried to explain how they'd made the whole thing up over the weekend, from prompts they were given when they arrived on Friday night, but clearly he'd been surviving on sugar and caffeine all weekend, so he wasn't entirely coherent.

Fortunately, JARVIS interrupted him. “I beg your pardon, everyone, but there is an incoming call from Dr Banner.”

Tony waved a hand regally. “Put him through, J.”

A moment later, Bruce was smiling at them from the wall, his face amusingly distorted by his phone's camera. “Hey guys.” They chorused a greeting. “Just wanted to let you know, Thor and Jane... well, they took off, and I have no idea where or when they'll be back. So I'm going to stay here tonight, and drive back in the morning.”

Tony practically purred. “Aww, Brucie! Checking in so Mom and Dad don't worry! You're adorable!” Bruce was turning a little red, but he was also smiling a little wider, so Steve let it go. “So, Bruce, did you have good science this weekend?”

*A*A*

“Good morning, Sir. The date is Monday, October 1st, and the time is 8 am. Shall I tell you the weather?”

Tony groaned and tried to squirm closer to Steve, even though he was already sprawled across his chest. “Noooo... No' gonna go ou'side... Don' wanna get outta bed...” Steve chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tony. “Neeeed cooooofffeeee....” Tony froze for a moment, then pulled back to look at Steve with wide, startled eyes. “I... didn't want coffee... all weekend.” He sat up sharply, suddenly wide awake. “I haven't even _wanted_ a drink since you kissed me!”

Steve blinked as that processed. “I- Wow. Um, you're welcome?” He flashed on Tony's usual 'beer with dinner, scotch in the evening, every single day' routine, and frowned a little. “Tony... Do you usually drink every day?”

Tony's tone aimed for casual but ended up kind of dismissive. “Yeah, but not nearly as much as I used to.” Steve's frown deepened, and Tony's shoulders tightened. “Look, I've got it under control, and knowing you you'll notice if I don't, so can we not do this, please, Captain Grandma?”

Steve put his hand on Tony's back, and rubbed in soothing little circles. “Hey, hey, I was just checking. I have a vested interest in your continued good health, you know.” Tony shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, and Steve grinned at him.

Tony sighed and smiled back. “Well, I guess that's fair. I'm pretty interested in your health, too. Which, just so you know, is in serious danger. I mean, really, asking big questions before I've had my coffee? That's just playing with fire.”

Steve pulled an exaggerated frown. “You know, this could be a tactical weakness. We'll have to make sure no supervillains get a hold of you first thing in the morning...”

Tony nodded enthusiastically. “That's a good plan. I like that plan a lot. Nice relaxed mornings, fighting in the afternoons, parties in the evenings. I think I could live like that.” Steve shifted so he was crouching on the bed, then scooped Tony up in a bridal carry, stood up, and walked across the bed. “Ooh, and being carried everywhere by a hot guy, definitely the best way to live.” Steve hopped off the bed, set Tony on his feet in front of the dresser, and leaned in to kiss him. Tony melted into it. “Mmm, better than coffee...” He straightened up abruptly. “Dammit, Rogers, you're corrupting me! I'm an engineer, we need our coffee, I'll have you know!” He stuck his tongue out at Steve, then turned to dig sweatpants and a t-shirt out of the drawers. 

Steve pulled his own sleep pants and t-shirt out of his duffel bag and onto his body, then twined his fingers with Tony's as they headed downstairs to the communal kitchen. Tony headed directly for the coffee maker while Steve pulled out cereal and a bowl. He sighed at the back of Tony's head. “Please tell me you plan you have some solid food, and not just survive on caffeine all day?” Tony sighed back, as if the whole thing was a huge hardship, but he dug a loaf of bread out of the cabinet and stuck a couple slices in the toaster. Steve smiled at him. “Thank you, baby, that makes me feel much better.” He poured juice in a glass and milk on his cereal, then took the whole thing over to the table and sat.

Tony lurked near the toaster, sipping at his coffee and casting long-suffering looks at Steve, who just looked evenly back. When the toast popped, he tossed it on a plate and came over to sit next to Steve. He took a single bite of toast, then set it back down and leaned toward Steve a bit. “I've been thinking about something. And you're totally welcome to have a say, but I'm thinking it's probably better if we don't tell the wider world about, you know, _us_.” He gazed mournfully into his coffee mug for a moment. “I'd rather, obviously, but the team announcement is going to be a big enough deal, I don't want to get us tangled up with that, you know me and tabloids, I-”

Steve covered Tony's hand with his own. “I'm fine with that. Honestly. I-” He smiled softly. “I'm perfectly happy with it being just in the family for now.” He couldn't help the grin. “We're gonna have to be careful not to touch each other that much, though, or smile too much at each other, or... Hmm, maybe we just shouldn't be out in public together for a while...” Tony, who had been looking more and more miserable with each 'can't', stared at him, stricken, at the last thought. Steve laughed and swooped in to kiss him. “Hey, you know, I'll be fine, it's less hiding than I would have had to do in the 40s.”

Tony mustered a smile. “I don't want you to feel like you have to hide...” 

Steve kissed him again. “It's ok, I promise. We can go out in public, and if the press figures it out, so be it. I don't feel like I- _we_ have anything to hide, so if people find out, they find out. But we don't ever have to officially announce anything if you don't want to or don't think it's a good idea.” _Though if we get married one day..._ No, definitely too early to be thinking that...

Tony kissed him back, and gave a slightly more realistic smile. “So, on the same topic but maybe a happier note, I was thinking, within the family, and then whenever we're, you know, actually outed as a couple, since we both know it's gonna be me just kissing you in the park sometime or something, anyway, um... What do we call ourselves? Boyfriends? Partners? I guess, not that we have to decide now, but...” Damnit, now he was feeling all vulnerable and exposed again! This wasn't _that_ big a deal, right? Just terminology, labels, a grasp at permanence...

Steve poked thoughtfully at the remains of his cereal. “I, ah, I guess I hadn't thought about it yet. Umm, but now that I am...” He looked up at Tony through his lashes. “I think I was already thinking of us as partners. We run this team together, don't we?”

Tony sipped at his coffee, trying to settle his emotions and figure out which ones were actually important. “Ah... Yeah, I guess we do. I... I _think_ I like it...” He sighed, unwanted images flashing through his mind. “The last time I called someone partner, it was for SI, and it was Obie, and the ending of that wasn't exactly one of my favorite days ever, but...” He looked up at Steve, who was watching him earnestly, maybe even with a bit of worry, but so concerned, so caring, so lo- no, there was no way. No matter how much he might want it, Steve would never feel- But Steve cared, in a way he knew now Obie never had. “Yeah, I'd like to make some new memories with the term. Alright, partner.” He stuck his hand out like this was a business deal, and Steve started to shake it, then rolled his eyes and tugged Tony in so they could kiss again. Tony made a happy little noise and melted into the kiss. 

Clint made a gagging noise behind them. “Oh, God, is this going to be my life now?” Tony broke the kiss and glanced over his shoulder; Clint was standing in the doorway, one hand half over his eyes, Nat peering over his shoulder with a twinkle in her eye. “Walk into random rooms and see the two of you...” He waved his other hand as if words had failed him.

Tony couldn't resist. “Could be worse. If we weren't worried about drones with cameras, we'd probably both be naked right now.” He broke out in a giant grin. Clint made a gagging face to go with the noise, then turned, ducked around Nat, and headed back toward his bedroom.

Nat just rolled her eyes a bit. “And here I was actually going to get him to eat some breakfast. Thanks, you two.” She patted them both on the head and set about making two mugs of coffee.

Steve bit his lip. “Should... I go apologize? Maybe offer to make him something? Should we not...”

Nat waved a dismissive hand. “He's not as upset as he plays at. This is just him adjusting.” Her body language softened a little. “And probably missing Coulson more than he'll admit.” She shot them a sharp look, and Tony immediately mimed zipping his lip. “I'll bring him the coffee, you two clear out, maybe I can get him back out here once he knows it's safe.” She shooed them out, and they went.

Tony looped his arm around Steve's. “That's alright, I have to get ready for work anyway. C'mon, I'll clear out a couple of dresser drawers for you.”

Steve was content to let Tony steer him up the stairs and into the bedroom, where he leaned in the doorway and watched Tony bustle around, shifting armloads of fabric from drawer to drawer until a whole column was empty and standing slightly open. In the midst of it, Tony glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “I really do want to get you more clothes, you know, nice clothes. You've got an amazing body, you should be showing it off more. And I can clear out more space for you whenever you need it.” He moved on to shifting things around on the top of the dresser.

Steve moved up behind him and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist. “You don't ever have to get me anything, but if you want to take me shopping, I am definitely not going to object. You have amazing taste in clothes, I would be happy to let you dress me.” Tony looked up, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and grinned. Steve couldn't help grinning back. “Yes, and undress me later, I can see the question in your eyes, you dirty-minded brat. Now go dress yourself, ya goofball, and go be brilliant. I can unpack for myself.” Tony pouted, but slipped out of his arms and over to the closet. Steve detoured from grabbing one of the duffel bags to poke Tony gently in the side. “And you'd better eat that toast you made, mister, you need to fuel your body.”

Tony affected a long-suffering air. “Yes, grandma.”

*A*A* 

Steve had nearly finished cooking the beef stroganoff, and Nat was throwing together a salad, while Clint set the table and Tony “supervised” (which mostly meant “keep up a running monologue and get horribly underfoot”, but Steve was pleased to see that the team worked well enough together to accommodate that now), but Steve was fretting. “I don't know, should we wait 'til Bruce gets here? Do we even know if he's back in New York yet? 

JARVIS made the tiny 'ping' that was his equivalent of clearing one's throat. “If I may, Captain? Dr Banner has in fact made it to Manhattan. If current traffic patterns hold, he should be here in ten to fifteen minutes.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, JARVIS. Alright, folks, shall we put this on hold until our team member is back?” They teased him for playing leader all the time, but they moved to the living room and Clint put on Mario Kart to keep them occupied for a little while.

Steve heard Bruce in the elevator before it got to their floor. He was growling and muttering, and Steve had a moment to wish the Shield wasn't upstairs and out of reach before the doors opened and Bruce stomped out. He was barely holding it together, flushed green and eyes narrowed, but the sight of the team greeting him cheerfully and the smell of the food seemed to calm him a little. He shrugged apologetically. “I, ah... I forgot how bad Manhattan at rush hour can be. I'll be ok.”

Tony grinned, and, with his usual complete lack of self-preservation instinct, slung an arm around Bruce's shoulder. “Well, good, then you can explain to me how Farber can possibly- you _did_ go to Farber's lecture on n-space reversals, didn't you?” He led Bruce through to the dining room, still peppering him with questions, and the rest of them trailed after. 

*A*A*

_He was trapped. Pinned. The suit had malfunctioned or something, locked up and frozen him in place... Frozen... The air in here was starting to freeze... The breath was freezing in his lungs... He couldn't breathe... Oh, God, he was going to die, trapped in his own damn suit...._

“Tony! Tony, baby, wake up, it's just a dream!” His eyes snapped open, and he tried to bring up his hand in repulsor-firing position, but he was still trapped, he still couldn't breathe- “I got you, you're ok...” His head swiveled to the source of the voice, and his eyes locked on to other eyes, the bluest blue made even more blue by the arc reactor. The corners of the blue eyes crinkled a little in a smile as Tony tried to process who- what- “Hold still, baby, you're all tangled in the blankets, let me get you there...” Steve. Steve was... here! Tony went completely limp, and let his partner- _oh, wow, he had a partner..._ \- unwrap the blankets and soothe his twitchy skin. “You back with me?”

Tony blinked a few more times, and mustered up a smile. “I'm here. I- Hi. Did I wake you?”

Steve gave a little laugh with no humor and hugged him close. “I'd rather you woke me up than suffered alone. Do you want to talk about it?”

Tony shuddered, wanting nothing less than to talk about it, but his mouth opened anyway. “I- I was trapped. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't-”

“Shh, shh...” Steve shifted them, lying more on his back and letting Tony rest the back of his head on Steve's bicep. “Better?” Tony gulped air a bit. “There you go, just breathe.” His pinned arm cradled Tony's side without holding him down.

The post-nightmare shakes didn't seem to take as long as usual. As soon as he felt like he could move, he rolled away, shoulders stiff. “Sorry about that. Didn't realize I'd wake you. Ah, you can-”

Steve pressed his chest to Tony's back, resting a hand lightly on his hip, just rubbing little circles with his thumb. “Can what? Forget about it? Ignore this and let you try to deal with your misery alone? Do you think I'm the sort of person to do that?” He kissed gently at Tony's hair. 

Tony shrugged a little. “Nobody wants to deal with my misery, didn't figure you'd be any different.” He curled in on himself, away from the warmth and comfort he didn't dare let himself get used to. “Really, I was just going to go back to sleep, you should do the same.”

Steve's hand tensed on Tony's hip, fingers digging in a little. “Now, why do I think that isn't exactly the truth?”

Tony sighed explosively and shoved himself up, away from Steve, out of bed, over to the dresser, too tired and on edge to censor himself. “Oh, right. I'm supposed to be being honest with you and all that, stupid Thor. Fine, the truth is, I know damn well I'm not getting back to sleep tonight, so I'm gonna go down to the lab, maybe work on suit schematics or something. You happy now?” He yanked boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt out of the drawers.

“OK, then.” Steve got up calmly, going over to his drawers to dig out his own clothes. 

“Um, what?” Tony froze, staring at him with one leg in and one leg out of his jeans. “What are you doing, I told you you could go back to sleep!”

Steve turned to give him a long look. “You really think I'm getting back to sleep tonight either? What part of 'not ignoring this and leaving you alone with your misery' did you not understand?”

Tony groped for words for a moment. “I- The- The part where-” He staggered back a couple steps, til his ass hit the dresser. “The times I'd wake Pepper, she always just said, it's fine, Tony, it'll be better in the morning, and then she'd hug me and go back to sleep, and you're all dressed and shit...”

Steve had, in fact, taken the time while Tony was processing to finish dressing. “Well, I don't know that I think much of her as a girlfriend if that's the way she reacted. Are you going to finish getting dressed, or are we going downstairs like this? 'Cause I'm pretty sure if Clint sees this, he'll have something to say.” Tony shivered at the thought, and finished putting his jeans on.

“Steve?” Tony fidgeted with his shirt instead of putting it on. When Steve looked over, he tried a smile. “Thank you. I know I'm a handful...”

Steve snagged a sketchbook and pencil pouch from his knapsack and came over to kiss Tony on the top of the head. “If you mean you're a problem, I just don't see it.” He pulled back a little, grinned, and grabbed Tony's jock through his clothes. “Though you are pretty much a perfect handful, I'd say.”

Tony gave him that special, extra-dirty smile he seemed to reserve for Steve making blue comments. “I have trained you well, young Padawan.” He grabbed Steve right back, then leaned in to not so much kiss him as fuck Steve's mouth with his tongue. Steve moaned and melted against him. Tony lost himself in it for a moment, but there was too much else trying to crowd in, and he pulled away. “Mmm, that's nice. But, sad to say, willing as the spirit might be, the flesh is jittery and hopped up on adrenalin. I need to get out of this room.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed for the elevator.

When they got to the workshop, Steve flopped down on the couch in the corner without a word, flipped open his sketchbook, and started in. Tony smiled fondly, though still with some surprise, at the top of his head, then opened the most recent specs on the suit and started a project he never thought he'd be able to, letting it consume his attention. Hmm, ok, start with reinforcing the struts for the arms and legs... add in a few special mods... Yeah, that part was probably going to need more feedback sensors...

He'd been working for a good chunk of time when Steve shifted and drew his awareness. Tony looked over, then back at his schematics, then back and forth a couple of times, starting to feel... guilty? Maybe? Weird in some way, anyhow. He cleared his throat. “Soooooo, when I said I might have to modify the suit to Dom you properly, what I may have meant is, I have several longstanding jack off fantasies involving very specific modifications to the suit, which I now seem to be actively planning. Does that freak you out?”

“Wha-?” Steve's head jerked up and around, and he caught sight of the shiny red cock jutting out of the hologram in front of Tony. He instantly turned bright red himself. “I- Oh, my God, Tony, did you really-?” His sweatpants were definitely developing a suspicious bulge. “Wait, fantasies involving me? From before you met me?” He squirmed, caught between emotions.

Tony grinned wide, blatantly ignoring the questions. “I'm thinking of calling it the Mark 69. And it would definitely _not_ be for combat situations.”

Something in Steve's demeanor changed, sharpened, and he got up and _stalked_ , like a _predator_ , right through the hologram and into Tony's personal space. “I think you're going to have to tell me _all_ about these fantasies you've had.” Tony opened his mouth to answer, but Steve glided around behind him, slid his hands down Tony's arms, and lifted them back up to the hologram. “ _While_ you keep working on it.” And with that perfect distraction that gave him perfect focus, he managed to nearly be late to work at SI.

*A*A*

After dinner that night, they all seemed to drift into the living room without talking about it. Bruce had his tea and a novel, in his usual armchair, while Steve and Clint were idly playing cards, Steve with a lap full of Tony's feet, though Tony appeared too engrossed in his tablet to notice his choice of furniture, and Nat curled up in the other armchair, knitting, with steel needles and a positively evil little smirk on her face. It was surprisingly domestic, and Steve felt a warm glow.

Until Thor burst out of the elevator, bubbling over with his own potent brand of good humor. Within moments, Tony was booting up the Game Cube, Clint was grabbing beers, and Bruce was setting up the popcorn machine. The six of them ended up battling it out in Super Smash Brothers for hours, until good-natured arguments over cheating and sabotage turned into childish bickering and name-calling, at which point Steve insisted everyone go to bed and sleep off the adrenaline.

*A*A*

_He was trapped. Pinned. The frame of the plane had partly collapsed around him, and there was water rushing in on all sides. Freezing water, colder than he ever thought possible... He could feel the cold creeping into his legs, his body... His breath was coming short, the cold and the fear stealing it before the water could. There was a weight on his chest, pressing, pressing..._

The weight suddenly lurched and lifted off of him. “Steve? Steve, baby, wake up! It's a nightmare!” He snapped up his left arm, as if hefting the Shield, then realized the arc reactor was in front of him. He yanked his arm back at the last moment, then pulled his whole body away from Tony, who was still reaching out to him. “Hey, hey, it's ok, just breathe, you're safe, you're here in the Tower with me, you're ok...”

Steve panted as he struggled to get his bearings. “I- I almost- God, Tony, I'm so sorry!” He started to reach for him, but stopped himself, curling both hands against his chest. “I don't...” He realized he was trembling.

Acting on instinct, Tony wrapped his arms around Steve, pinning his hands between them and pressing Steve's face into his shoulder. Steve nuzzled in closer, and Tony stroked his hair, as soothingly as he could. “It's ok, you're safe, I'm fine, we're all good, just breathe...” 

Steve was nuzzling harder now, and his hips were starting to rock against Tony's thighs. He nipped at Tony's collarbone, and Tony couldn't repress the shiver that went through him. Steve moaned and left a trail of sloppy kisses across Tony's throat and up to his ear. “God, baby... You're so warm... Feel good... Wanna make you feel sooo good...” He rolled his hips, with unmistakable purpose, and Tony's hips snapped forward. “Mmm, yeah... Please, Tony, please let me fuck you... Make me feel alive...”

Tony groaned with desire. “Oh, _yeah_ , baby, please fuck me...” He flailed one arm in the general direction of the bedside drawer with the lube, until Steve growled and lunged for it. A moment later, he was back, pressing his lips roughly to Tony's, driving his tongue into Tony's mouth almost mercilessly. Tony groaned again, his hips rocking up against whatever part of Steve was closest. Steve was already popping open the bottle of lube, slicking up his fingers, and now he slid his hand between them, down to Tony's hole. Before Tony could even finish his moan of approval, Steve was sliding one finger into him. 

Steve worked the first finger quickly, raggedly, and added the second almost before Tony was ready. He was kissing at Tony's neck and shoulders, hardly seeming to aim his lips, and his erection was rubbing hotly along Tony's thigh. Tony writhed, almost overwhelmed with pleasure, and rocked his hips as best he could, pinned as he was. Steve barely slid the third finger in before he was pulling them all out and lining up his cock. Tony whimpered and tried to push himself down onto it.

Steve pressed his lips desperately to Tony's for a long moment, then pulled back the barest amount. “Mine. My Tony, my pet, my-” He slid into Tony in one long, smooth thrust, and Tony keened in pleasure. “God, yes. So perfect for me, so good, so sweet...” He went back to peppering kisses wherever he could reach, his hips snapping back and forth in nearly the same rhythm. Tony felt drunk, beyond high, worshiped and deconstructed in equal measure, completely incapable of anything besides whimpering, moaning, and writhing needfully. 

Steve was starting to lose his rhythm a bit, and he propped himself up with one hand and reached between them with the other to wrap around Tony's cock and stroke him roughly. That was all it took; Tony's back arched sharply as he cried out, spurting all over Steve's chest and the arc reactor. Steve followed a moment later, driving in as hard as he could and freezing there, spurting hotly into Tony. Then he collapsed, panting, and barely caught himself on his elbows so he didn't crush Tony. They kissed, slow and languid, until Steve softened enough to slide out, at which point he rolled them over so Tony was lying on him.

Tony kissed him again, but he was already sliding back into sleep. Steve wrapped his arms around Tony like he was his only lifeline, and fell back to sleep soon after, a deep sleep that was only interrupted when JARVIS pinged. “Good morning, sirs, today is Wednesday, October 3rd, and the time is 8 am exactly. Ms Potts reminds you that you have a stockholder meeting at 11 am.”

*A*A*

Late Thursday afternoon, Steve headed in to the team kitchen to start on dinner, only to find Bruce already there and assembling ingredients. Bruce gave him a gentle smile. “Last one before the big announcement. I thought I'd give you the night off.” Steve grinned thankfully back at him and sauntered down to the workshop to listen to Tony ramble about his latest project until Bruce called them back up.

Dinner this week was much more relaxed than last week, especially since Tony claimed the seat next to Steve, and spent the meal pressing his thigh against Steve's, or making excuses to reach across him for things, and 'coincidentally' brush against his pecs or abs. Steve retaliated by resting his hand at the small of Tony's back, occasionally dipping down to goose him or just cup an ass cheek, all without changing his body language or tone of voice. Everyone else clearly knew the game they were playing, but aside from quick knowing smirks or Clint briefly making a face, they played along that nothing was going on. Which, Steve realized, just meant that the tension he was feeling was of a completely different sort. (This kind was _so_ much better...)

When the meal was finished and the dishes cleared away, they trooped into the living room. Tony steered Steve into the smaller couch, then snuggled up to his side. “Alright, Brucie-bear, I know I gave you movie privileges this week, what've you got for us?”

Bruce shrugged a little, careful not to spill his tea as he settled into an armchair. “This time next week, there'll be a media circus. I figured we wanted something feel-good, so, Robin Williams. JARVIS, if you would, _Hook_ , and then _Death to Smoochy_.”

Clint chortled. “Yeah, the best of his feel-good stuff. Way to go for the deep cuts, Banner.” He sprawled across the big couch, barely twitching when Nat sat on his thighs. “Huh, I guess we should give these guys the whole Peter Pan story first, right?”

Steve leaned forward. “I know Peter Pan. I saw it on stage when I was a kid.” He chuckled and leaned back again. “Actually, yeah, Clint, you should definitely be the one to tell Thor that story.”

Thor gestured broadly from the other armchair. “Indeed, friend Clint, I am always eager to hear your renditions of the tales of Midgard.”

Clint eyed Steve suspiciously, but launched into it anyway, as Nat shifted so he could sit up. “OK, so, this kid, Peter Pan, he decides that being a grown-up is for suckers, and he's not going to do it, so he runs away to this place called Neverland, where you never have to grow up, and then a bunch of other kids do the same thing, and they're all called the Lost Boys, and he's their leader. But he still kind of misses our world, so he comes back for visits and he, like, listens in at people's windows and shit, and he catches sight of this girl called Wendy, and he kinda falls for her. So he gets her and her brothers to come with him, back to Neverland, and there are all these fights with pirates, and the leader of the pirates is Captain Hook, which, they call him that cause he's only got one hand, cause Pan cut the other one off in a sword fight and fed it to a crocodile, and now the only thing Captain Hook is afraid of is the crocodile coming back and finishing him off. Oh, and the crocodile also ate a clock, one of the old-fashioned kind that ticks, and for some reason it's still working, so he can hear it coming and he can get away.” Clint blinked and looked around, and seemed embarrassed when he realized everyone was watching him raptly (well, Nat was smirking, but with her that could mean anything). “Um, anyway. So there's like fairies and mermaids and shit too, but the point is, the Lost Boys beat the pirates, and Wendy and John and Michael come back to our world, and there's shit about appreciating your parents and civilization. All heartwarming and shit.” He sat back and hunched in on himself a little. “So this is kinda the sequel to that, kinda. JARVIS, can we?” JARVIS obligingly dimmed the lights and started the movie. 

*A*A*

Friday morning was spent running partial-team tactics and strategies, honing their teamwork. When lunchtime rolled around, Steve called a halt. He took a minute to towel off some sweat, while Clint dumped a bottle of water over his head and Nat stretched and bent. He grinned at them. “OK, guys, that was excellent. Clint, I still want to come up with better communications for that 'arrow off the Shield' move, but our teamwork is definitely getting better. Let's break for lunch-”

JARVIS pinged. “Captain Rogers, Sir would like to speak with you, if you're available.”

Steve resolutely ignored Clint's dramatically-fluttering eyelashes. “Sure, JARVIS, go ahead.”

The gym's screen-wall lit up. “Hey, babe. Ooh, sweaty. My favorite!” Tony grinned at him, and Steve grinned back. Tony pointed over Steve's shoulder. “And Barton. Don't make those vomit faces unless you want to vomit for a week. Hey Nat.” He waved a little, then refocused on Steve. “Anyway, MoMA's got this retrospective on Rothko right now, I was thinking, tomorrow, early lunch, all afternoon looking at art that will either bore us to tears or make us think crazy deep thoughts, late dinner? No fancy clothes required!” He waggled his eyebrows.

Steve pretended to think. “Hmm, I don't know, there's all this paperwork I have to catch up on...” Tony gave an exaggerated pout, and Steve laughed at him. “Yes, Tony, that sounds wonderful. I'd very much like to have a museum date with you.”

Tony beamed at him. “It's a date, then.” He schooled his face to seriousness. “We just have to remember to not treat it like a date, so the tabloids don't get wind of it. Dammit, Rogers, why can't I flaunt you?” Steve just laughed as he cut the connection.

*A*A*

Steve woke up as soon as the rising sun hit his face. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Tony, pulled on exercise clothes, and headed for the elevator and all the way down to street level. He was too excited to sleep, too excited to even be confined within walls. He needed to _run_ , in the open air! He was actually going on a real, actual, proper date! Finally, after a lifetime of waiting... He felt a little silly, twenty four years old (or ninety two, but who's counting?) and excited about a first date, especially when they'd already been having mind-blowing sex for, God, was it really only a week? Should he be worried about how gone he already was for the genius? 

And the Hell of it was, he knew that, at least for now, they couldn't really be any more public than they would have been in the 30s and 40s. Steve knew he was going to want to kiss Tony, there among the art, but there would be plenty of other people there, with video cameras on their phones, and, well, that just didn't bear thinking about. So it would still have to have the mask of _friends_ , but it would still be _them_ , out in public, having meals and taking in culture together. Hah, the way the paparazzi followed Tony around, there were likely to be pictures of them in the papers tomorrow anyway. As Steve ducked around a delivery truck and vaulted a hand cart, he wondered if any of the photos would show them off well together, and if he could get his hands on them... And then he realized that at least one of the tabloids would likely insinuate that they _were_ on a date, and he nearly missed a curb and went sprawling across the crosswalk.

He stutter-stepped, caught himself, and staggered back to a normal gait, all on automatic, as he tried to wrap his mind around the incredible concept that, yes, there would be media speculation that they were dating, just as there would if any two of the team were out alone together, but it would only be titillating, gossip for housewives to giggle over, and not anything to end a career, or worse, a life, over. They _would_ go public one day (probably sooner than they meant to), and there _would_ be negative reactions, but there would be more that were positive, and the negativity would blow out like a hurricane making landfall. Really, truly, no one would care that he was “with” a fella, and he put on a burst of speed as his excitement and joy bubbled up again. Screw it, he had every right to be giddy about this date!

*A*A*

Tony woke up slowly, a little confused as to why the emptiness of his bed made him upset. Then he rolled over, and smelled Steve's pillow, and remembered one of the best weeks of his life, and that he had an actual date today. Not that he could be nearly as PDA as he wanted to be, not after this week of having their hands all over each other whenever they were home. He spent a moment cursing the newfound sense of maturity and propriety that had him keeping the relationship... quiet. Subtle. He was Tony Stark, he didn't _do_ subtle... Except apparently when it came to two of the highest-profile men in the country, if not the world, dating each other. Dammit.

No, you know what? It was _fine_. He and Steve were going out together, they were going to have a couple of nice meals, talk about art and probably all sorts of other shit, and enjoy their time together. _They_ would know it was a date, and so would the people waiting up at home to razz them about it later, and nobody would get pulled up in front of the House UnAmerican Activities Committee, and holy crap, he was going on a date with _Steve Rogers_ , it was somehow even harder to grasp than the part where they were fucking like bunnies in spring, Captain America actually wanted to date _him_ , Tony Stark, Merchant- 

He cut that line of thought abruptly. He wasn't that person anymore, and Steve would be pissed if he knew Tony was getting down on himself, and he had much happier thoughts to occupy his mind anyway. He hopped out of bed, pulled on sweatpants, and went to find coffee and a shower. He had a date to get ready for!


End file.
